


Stitchwork

by monstersanonymous



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Author loves all of the characters I promise, Blue and Gansey are married bc they're like 30, But not all of the characters love each other, Dad! Ronan, Declan owns an art gallery, Doctor! Adam, F/M, Joseph Kavinsky is His Own Warning, M/M, Superhero! Ronan, Tags will update with the story, because fuck you, but its happy i promise, but they fall in love its okay, haha TRAUMA BABY, narration is biased, slowburn, superhero au, there will be lots of blood and injuries im not sorry, they're all fucked up <3, this is kind of dark in places
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:47:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 30,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26374456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monstersanonymous/pseuds/monstersanonymous
Summary: "Adam Parrish had the coldest brown eyes he'd every seen. He was beautiful.***For all of Ronan Lynch's terrifying demeanor, he had the warmest blue eyes Adam had every seen."----35 years ago Niall Lynch created the Cabeswater Company, a company that employed those rare people with superpowers to help average citizens and fight those that used their powers for malice and harm.Ronan Lynch is the Graywaren, Cabeswater's top and most infamous fighter. His identity is the best kept secret of the company. But he's bored.  And his doctor just died on him and now his best friend had hired his wife's ex boyfriend to be the replacement. Yippee.Adam Parrish is just trying to make it. He's been working as a doctor for average superhero for five years now, and when Richard Gansey III promotes him to be a private doctor, he simply can't turn it down. But the asshole who refuses to admit he broken a rib is pushing him to quit. He's got enough on his plate and his own secrets to deal with, he doesn't need to be babysitting a tantrum throwing adult with powers strong enough to wipe out America.The two men find answers in each other. And maybe, just maybe, they'll find love too. And also a bird.
Relationships: Henry Cheng/Noah Czerny, Richard Gansey III/Blue Sargent, Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 96
Kudos: 161





	1. Cliche Robbers and A Promotion

**Author's Note:**

> I'll include a little fun fact about every chapter before and then a sneak peak at the end!  
> Fun Fact: Ronan's narration has a lot less background stuff because he is used to this world and really doesn't think about it. Adam refers to himself as Adam and then Dr. Parrish to symbolize different sides of himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll include a little fun fact about every chapter before and then a sneak peak at the end!  
> Fun Fact: Ronan's narration has a lot less background stuff because he is used to this world and really doesn't think about it. Adam refers to himself as Adam and then Dr. Parrish to symbolize different sides of himself.

The thing about Ronan Niall Lynch was that he was inexplicably, irretrievably, incomprehensibly lucky. Ronan seemed to have shouldered all of the luck in his family for himself. He was not lucky in the sense that he found four leaf clovers in his gardenias everyday, no, but rather that he experienced things that are simply not normal. Conundrums, if his best friend was to be quoted. Ronan could fall from a horrifying height and walk away right after, and that was luck, it was a miracle. But Ronan could also happen to come home just five minutes later than usual and find his father’s mangled body in his driveway. That was also luck, but people just called it a sad coincidence.

Somedays the luck paid off. See a cute guy in a coffee shop, his favorite soda on sale.

This particular day, however, the luck seemed to be lackluster.

“Nobody moves.” The robber growled. Ronan appreciated the growl. It was effective for the scene, threatening and commanding. It was almost as good as his own. Ronan did not appreciate the stereotypical robber get-up. The black ski mask and gray sweatshirt and a handgun as an accessory. It was boring. Ronan was bored. And antsy. And he didn’t have his fucking suit.

“Stay down.” Declan hissed. Declan Lynch, the eldest of the Lynches left, was the brother to whom everyone looked at and said “Oh, you must be the older brother.” He was neither good lucky or bad lucky. He wore crisp charcoal suits and gelled his hair back. He was boring and predictable. He was also very good at hissing orders. 

“If you reveal yourself I will not bail you out again.” He probably would. “Today is the worst possible day for you to have showed up.” It wasn’t, really. It was just an average day. But a day when the two eldest brothers were together often felt like the worst possible day to. . .well, anything. 

They were crouched underneath a counter, heads bumping against the ledge. Ronan’s gangly legs and general inability to have good posture made him a tripping hazard for the frantically pacing robber mere feet in front of them. An art gallery is a strange place to rob. Majority of people buy high end art in credit or debit, not cash. The robber was just now learning this.

“Fucking hell!” The card reading machine went flying across the room. The customers and employees flinched. Ronan didn’t.

“Your security is a bunch of limp dicks.” he said.

Declan didn’t appreciate this offer of a conversation. “I thought they’d be more competent then to let a single robber control a hostage situation.”

Ronan looked to the triad of men in dark suits, passed out with zip ties on their wrists and piss in their pants. His mother once told him, if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all. Too bad Ronan wasn’t known for listening to his mother. “I could buy security guards better than those with a bag of my shit.”

“Would it kill you to not cuss in every sentence?”

A grin crept across his face. “Fuck off.”

“You!” The robber marched over and waggled the gun in Declan’s face. “You’re the owner!”

“Question or comment?” he asked dryly.   
“Don’t be an assmouth, richie.” Ronan liked that word, the robber had good taste. He filed it away for later use. “Get over here, I want to make a call.” 

The robber grabbed Declan’s ever practical necktie and dragged him up and over to the phone at the help desk. And Ronan, well, Ronan moved. 

It was easy. Simple. It was something the company wouldn’t have to cover up later, something witnesses were allowed to narrate in court. Ronan simply stood up, and knocked the robber out with a paper weight. And then he dragged them outside and let the police arrest them.

“You’re going to be the death of me, one of these days.” Declain said after the police had taken their statement.

“You said not to reveal myself. I didn’t.”

“Ronan.”

“Declan.” 

Declan sighed and redid the cuff on his sleeve. “I’m being serious. You’ve been big for long enough now to have made some big enemies. If word gets out about your identity, it’ll be dangerous. Too dangerous, for even you.”

“Don’t fret your pretty little brow, Big Bro.” Ronan snarled. He was very good at that. Snarling. “No one is going to find out that I’m a superhero.”

* * *

The thing about Adam Parrish was that people couldn’t decide if he was interesting or boring. Everything about Adam was very much both. His face was average, but so much so it was eerie. Some might have said it was beautiful, but it was small town beautiful. Or maybe it was ethereal. His intelligence was astounding and praise worthy. But most people were not interested in the inner workings of RNA and anatomy. And so Adam existed on the fine line of the undecided, a cross between too much and not quite enough. His last girlfriend broke up with him because he had too many problems and not enough adventure. In a way, that encapsulated the man. He was all beginnings and shadowy pasts, but he had yet to be future or present. Yet.

Adam Parrish worked in a nondescript building in a very descript lab.

And Dr. Parrish worked on superheroes. 

It was all very ethical, of course, He worked for Cabeswater, the only company that employed superheroes in the East Coast. Probably. Dr. Parrish worked in the Medical field. To heal heroes. To advance their abilities. And sometimes, to put a stop to them. Not all powers were good. Not all powers were merciful.

Today, however, he was not working in his typical medical wing. He’d been summoned. 

Richard Campell Gansey III was legendary. He ran and owned the Cabeswater Company, and yet he still did grunt work in Developments and Analytics. He was famous, he was smart, and he was popular. And he was also, very, very rich. Adam had met him briefly during his interview, but they’d yet to cross paths again. 

“Dr. Parrish,” the man himself said. “Don’t feel the need to hover, come, sit.” It was an invitation but it was also a command. He was hunched over a screen, glasses jammed up into his nose and eyes squinting. He didn’t look like the owner of a multi-million dollar superhero service company. He looked. . . well he looked like a dork. His shirt was a horrendous lime green and his hair looked like it had been parted at one point, but the effect was rapidly fading due to a hand running through it one to many times. 

“You summoned me?”

“Loosen up, Adam, you’re not in trouble.” And there she was. Blue Sargent, never far from her husband’s side. Blue worked in almost every department at least a little bit and simultaneously ran half the company. She was also the main reason Adam had this job.

She glided past him and ruffled his hair before taking a seat on the couch across him. “We want to promote you.” She sipped from the mug in her hands. “Gansey, c’mere this was equally your idea; you can write up the report later.”

Gansey made a small grumbling noise, clear displeasure at leaving his work. “So, Dr. Parrish--”

“Call me, Adam, please.”

Gansey blinked. “Adam. You’ve been working with us for five years now.” It wasn’t a question so Adam didn’t answer. “You’ve done fine work here.”

“We want you to work with a specific hero.” Blue interjected. “You’ve been working in general medicine for the defensive line, yes? We want you to become a private doctor to an offense hero.” 

Cabeswater was set up like this; Medics, Recruiting, Analytics, Development, Defensive, and Offensive. Medics did as medics do; healing and general doctor stuff. Occasionally they studied the biology and science behind the powers. Adam worked in the general hospital for the Defensive heroes, mending broken bones and creating cures. Or poisons. Recruiting sought out new heroes and trained them. Analytics studied powers and how they could be used. Development made the technology and suits. Defense heroes were the protectors. They saved the people, got them out of burning buildings and ushered them to hospitals. Offensive heroes were the fighters. They took on the bad guys, the villains, the nukes shooting through the sky. They were the high class in the company. 

“A private doctor?” Adam asked.

Gansey nodded, tired and wise. “You see, the specific hero’s identity is our biggest secret. His team has to be small and tight. And good. Also the past doctor was killed so there’s that.”

“Killed?”

“We’re not sure if it’s murder.” Blue said, attempting to rest her feet on the coffee table and missing. “But the car crash didn’t look normal enough for us to be sure.” 

“We need your answer before you meet him. Confidentiality and all.” 

Adam looked down at the folds of his lab coat. He looked back up. “Why me?”

Blue and Gansey looked at each other. “You’re smart and good at what you do.” Gansey said.

“I think he’ll like you.” Blue said. 

“We’ll raise your pay.” Gansey added.

Adam was intrigued by the notion of a better job. Dr. Parrish was intrigued by the notion of the mystery hero. 

“When would you like me to start?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter but they get longer I promise.
> 
> Sneak Peak:
> 
> "You want to put shrooms in my superhero suit?"  
> "Sure."  
> He kind of liked this guy.


	2. Doom and Shrooms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ta da! new chapter!  
> Fun Fact: Opal's room is Ronan's old room because he associates it with childhood and it helps him feel closer to her. Blue and Adam are still from Henrietta, but the other went to a private school in DC.

Ronan slammed the door shut behind him. He tossed his boots into the designated shoe corner, noting the smaller ones already over there. 

“Child!” he roared.

“Parent!” came the reply from deeper in the house. Ronan trudged up the stairs and pushed open the door to his daughter’s room. Opal was sitting at the desk, pages of math spread out in front of her, as if she was doing homework. She wasn’t, however, favoring her phone, and what looked like social media, over algebra. 

“I thought I told you to finish your homework before you got on your phone.”

“And I thought I told you to knock before you came into my room.” she retorted.

Ronan sighed and backed up, closing the door again and this time, knocking.

“Come in.” He pushed the door back open. Opal’s phone has disappeared and she was working steadily on a worksheet. “Oh hello, my beloved father figure who so kindly respects the boundaries of my room. How art thou on this wonderful afternoon?”

“Wondering if I raised you wrong,” he replied. She was only 13 and had somehow picked up too much of Ronan’s own personality. “How was school?”

“Fine.”

“Fine, actually fine? Fine, boring but not bad? Fine, something bad happened but I don’t want to talk to my dad about it because I’m a teenager and I’m grumpy and anti-social?”

“You’re grumpier.”

“Touche, streetrat.” 

“Melissa joined the volleyball club.” Ronan felt his muscles tighten. Melissa was Opal’s best friend and they had a habit of doing almost everything together. But Ronan had a strict no after school activities policy.

“That’s cool.” he said, anticipating what was coming.

“I wanna join too.”

“Opal, you can’t. You know that. It's not safe.” 

Her pen clattered against the desk. “How come? We’ve never been attacked before, and I’ll just be at school for longer than usual. You’ll know exactly where I am.”

Ronan heaved a large breath. “The school is monitored. Other schools you might compete at aren’t. And it’s dangerous being around that many people. You could get grabbed.”

“I can defend myself.”

“I know. But what about your friends? If they grab two of you and say if you move they’ll hurt the other one, you’ll be stuck. And then I’d have to come get you. We’ve been over what _that_ situation would look like.” They had, many times. Ronan was not allowed to make personal missions. Cabeswater knew that if his daughter was in danger, he wouldn’t hesitate to out himself and save her. That got his father killed. So they had precautions. Ronan wasn’t strong enough to deny his daughter at least a semi-normal childhood, so she was attending public school. But all clubs, sports, and other activities are forbidden. It was just too risky. 

Opal was silent, the indication that Ronan had once again won the argument. 

“What do you want for dinner?”

“Mac and cheese.”

“We had that yesterday.”

“Then lasagna.”

“That’s still pasta, Opal. How about burgers?”

Opal wrinkled her nose. “Wheat buns?”

Ronan scoffed. “Fuck no. I threw those things out. Declan’s attempts to get us to eat better and futile and weak.”

“I want tater tots.”  
“How about waffle fries?”

She tapped her chin, pondering the option. “I’ll let it slide.”

After dinner, Ronan put his boots back on.   
“Where are you going?” Opal asked from her spot in front of the TV.

“Back into work. They hired a new doctor and I gotta meet him today.”

“Oh ok.” This did not interest her.

“He’s Blue’s ex boyfriend.”

Opal whirled around. “Really? That’s wild. You think he still likes her? Is Gansey jealous? Take a photo when you get there I wanna see if she has a type.” Opal was quite taken with Blue. Ronan kind of wished she wasn’t, Opal thought Blue was much cooler than he.   
“I’m not gonna take a photo of my doctor to feed your gossip habit.”

“Lameass.”

“Swear jar.” 

A quarter clinked against glass.

“When are you gonna be back?”

“Not sure. Probably won’t take long. House check?” Opal hauled herself off the couch and wandered around the house, coming back after just a minute.   
“We’re good.”

“Windows?”

“Locked.”

“Back door?”

“Locked.”

“What about the basement?”

“Dad! I said I got it, chill.”

Ronan raised his hands up. “Alright, just making sure. Stay safe, don’t leave, press the button if you’re in trouble and text Blue if you need anything.”

“Aye aye.” Opal said, eyes already glued to her phone.

“Bye, child.”

“Just leave already, geez.”

“Good _bye_ , child.”

Opal huffed. It sounded suspiciously like his own. “Bye, Dad.”

The drive to Cabeswater was short and boring. It was a route he’d driven countless times, the first route he memorized after he got his license. The building was nondescript, it looked like a regular office building, gray and not worth noting. But once you got through security and the woman at the front desk who was probably a former assassin, it was a different world. With Henry Cheng as the head of the tech department, all of their stuff was shiny and fast. Body scanners moved with you through the halls and elevators were quick and efficient. And single person riders. That wasn’t an advancement Henry had made, but rather something he did because he did not like people to talk to him in elevators. Ronan appreciated it.

Ronan’s floor was the top floor. The other offensive heroes had large sections to themselves, but with the secrecy needed for his identity, Ronan was given an entire level to himself. They couldn’t trust their own company, afterall.

“Ronan!” Gansey cried as Ronan stepped out of the elevator. “You’re late! I was calling you.”

Ronan handed him his phone. It was turned off. “Dunno why you tried.”

“Asshole.” Blue greeted him.

“Maggot.” he responded. “Where’s the doc?”

“He’s in the lab.” Noah emerged from some dark corner. “Henry’s occupying his attention with shiny new microscopes.” Ronan nodded and they bumped fists. Gansey once told him that he didn’t understand his friendship with Noah.

“You’re so different.” he’d said. “I don’t know how you two get along.”

Rona had merely shrugged. “Kid’s got mad pranking skills.” And that was that.

He led the entourage into the medical section of the floor. Inside was a bed and numerous medical machines. A scanner to identify broken bones or internal bleeding, a fridge for blood transfusions, a table of little knives and needles for stitches.

And there was a man. A stranger. He was tall, a few inches taller than Henry next to him, and he wore a white lab coat. He didn’t technically have a need to be in a lab coat, they weren’t doing anything today, just introductions. Henry was showing him how to operate a microscope to see deeper into singular cells. Ronan, bored, cleared his throat.

“Uh, yes, Adam?” Gansey called. The man turned around and blinked owlishly at the group, apparently having not noticed they’d come in. “Round of introductions.”

“You’ve already met most of us, but we’ll run through the roles as well.” Blue started. “I do Analytics, I run training and so forth. I’m also the safety button if things get out of control.” With her ability to enhance and shut down people’s powers, it was the most logical and easiest role for her. She’d saved Ronan’s life more times than he would like to admit.

“I’m in Analytics and Development, for planning and strategy.” Gansey said. “Also emotional support.” Gansey’s ability was identification. One look and he could tell exactly what someone’s ability was, and also their weakness. He was useless in a fight, but he was vital to the team.

Henry piped up. “I’m in Development for tech and such. Don’t normally have to do stuff, but I’m here for any tweaks needed.” Henry could talk to machines. It was very creepy. Ronan didn’t like it.

“I have a phasing ability. I do defense and have civilian roundup and rescue.” Noah said from his place beside Ronan. Noah was significantly more powerful than people gave him credit for but he didn’t have a violent bone in his body.

“I’m Adam Parrish, medical.” The doctor turned his eyes to Ronan. “And you must be offense.”

Ronan let a maniac-type grin creep across his face. “Ronan Lynch. The Greywaren.”

* * *

Adam was in over his head. The Greywaren was infamous. His ability to create anything out of absolutely nothing was something that boggled the minds of numerous scientists. Not to mention that the Greywaren was supposed to be ancient. He was a mystery, having been around for about fifteen years and then disappearing for five only to come back and continue where he left off. And when he came back he was reckless and brutal. That man in front didn’t look fifty years old. He looked Adam’s age. Ronan Lynch was tall and pale. Adam was willing to bet he’d never seen sun. His head was buzzed short and he was wearing ripped black jeans and a leather jacket like a punk teenager. Adam begrudgingly admitted that he pulled it off. He wouldn’t be surprised if he had a tattoo.

“The Greywaren.” Adam repeated.

“The one and only.” the man said. “Technically.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. 

“Ronan’s father was the Greywaren first. Niall Lynch. But his identity was discovered and an assination organization took him out. When Ronan was twenty, he took up his father’s former name.” Gansey said simply.

“They shared powers genetically?” Adam asked. 

Lynch eyed him. “It’s a hereditary power.”

Adam hummed. HIs mind was whirling with possibilities. Dr. Parrish wanted to get his hands on Ronan Lynch’s blood and study it until morning. Adam was pretty sure it was frowned upon to ask for a classified superhero’s blood on the first meeting. 

“We need some help with a problem with the suit.” Henry said. He drifted over to the lab table and picked up a silver briefcase. When a little latch at the top was pressed, the case hissed and popped open to reveal gray cloth with silver lining. “Ronan, want to give him background?”

“No.”

“Ronan.” Gansey said. 

The man grunted.“My ability is creation. I can take things from my dreams or imagination and turn them into reality. I need to be able to imagine clearly for it to happen and the adrenaline kind of kills the whole fuckin’ day dreaming thing.” He waved his hand about as if it indicated the ‘whole fuckin’ day dreaming thing’. 

Henry brought the suit over to Adam. “We’ve used numerous things. We tried to recreate the magnetic waves the Blue uses to enhance the powers, but not even I could make a device strong enough and small enough to go with the suit. We tried a sedative to keep him in a dreamlike state but--”

“The turtle movement was shit. Nearly died.”

Henry sighed. “The sedative got rid of all of the adrenaline based reflexes. We tried having him ‘dream’ before a fight and not doing it durning. It half way helped.”

“I took a knife to a gunfight.”

“Technically it was a katana.”

“Well, it still didn’t help me much, did it, Dick?” Adam was unsure if Lynch meant dick like a dick or Dick as in a nickname for Richard. He supposed it could be both.

“What about pairing a hallucinogenic with Blue’s enhancing powers? Something not strong enough to distort reality but strong enough to aid the imagination. Add the device you were talking about earlier and it may be enough to allow him to use it at will.” he said, turning the suit over in his hands. 

“You wanna put shrooms in my suit?” Lynch asked.

Adam’s mouth quirked upwards. “Sure.” He kind of liked Lynch. In the past half hour he had sworn no fewer than six times and seemed to obey Richard Gansey III while looking like he’d rather tell any form of authority to suck a dick. He seemed like the kind of person Adam would have hated in school. He seemed like the kind of person Adam would have thought was too ‘cool’ or too wild for the two of them to be friends. Adam kind of wanted to be his friend.

Lynch grunted. “Do whatever, man. I’m going home.” And so he did. When the door swung shut behind him, Blue turned to Adam.

“I think he likes you.” she told him.

Adam gave her a thin smile. He did not share her opinion. Adam wanted to befriend Ronan Lynch. Ronan Lynch looked like he’d rather stick his dick in a dry bagel. He simply hoped that he would be able to continue this job without any hitches. And without any secrets spilling out into the light. 

New opportunities always had a way of feeling like doom.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sneak Peak: Ronan really wishes he didn’t like Parrish. He wished that he didn’t stare at his long and nimble fingers during debriefings and fantasize about running his hands through his hair.
> 
> (leave a comment I love responding!)


	3. Bridges and Potted Plants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh geez nearly forgot to post this week! Starting to get more into the plot with this one. . .(lets play a game called, is this foreshadowing? probably but who knows certainly not the author)  
> Fun facts: Because of Noah's ability to phase through matter, he occasionally loses his sense of solidity. Touch, being hugged, holding hands etc, helps him feel more whole and real. (that ones not very fun but its important to me)  
> Adam always wears his med coat during work hours because one time he got blood on his favorite sweater and the stain set and he had to through it away.

“Jesus, Mary, motherFUCK!” Ronan shouted. 

“Stay still would you?” Parrish snapped. “This is what you get for not wanting anesthesia.” 

“No, it’s your fault for having shitty stitchwork.”

“It is certainly not my fault that you’ve never gotten really stitches before, you big bald baby.”

“Lasers are faster and painless, of course I wouldn’t get regular stitches, I’m not a fucking idiot.”

“Yeah, well, lasers are back at the building and we’re trapped under a bridge so you can’t always have everything.” Parrish tugged and Ronan felt his skin tighten.

“Shit, that’s disgusting.”

“You had a bone sticking out of your shoulder last week, how is this disgusting?”

“I can feel the thread moving in my skin!” Ronan Lynch was not squeamish. Not by any means. Stitches, however, were an entirely different creature. He could feel the needle being pushed in and out of his skin and the thread being dragged behind it. It was a feeling similar to feeling the needle of a flu shot being withdrawn from your body, only this lasted for an entire minute.

Dr. Adam Parrish was, unfortunately, the best doctor he ever had. There was no denying that the quick and steady movements of his fingers came from years of practice and confidence. He was smart, and quick witted. And he was incredibly stubborn. If he wanted Ronan to get an MRI, chances were high that Ronan would be getting an MRI. Once, he told Ronan he needed to floss more. 

“You’re not my dentist, doc.”

“No, but when I have to wash the black ooze out of your mouth when you’ve been overworking your powers and you’re out cold, I do tend to notice the fact that your gums look like shit. Floss.”

Rona had huffed and ignored the comment until after dinner that night when Ronan got up to go to bed and Opal shouted,   
“Don’t forget to floss! Adam said that it would be better if you flossed more!”

Needless to say, he and Parrish had yet another fight the next day over the boundaries of employing your boss’s child to get him to simply floss.

Ronan won that one. He also flosses every night, now.

It had been two months since Parrish had begun working for the team. He clicked with them scarily fast. His history with the maggot was something apparently long buried and had now become a close and frankly dangerous friendship. And Gansey loved him. Parrish apparently liked anything that had to do with showing off one’s smartness. The two could be found talking about anything from neurology to astrophysics to greek mythology. Henry liked him because. . . well Ronan was pretty sure Cheng liked him because Parrish and Ronan fought all the time. He was still figuring that out. Noah liked him because he didn’t treat him like a kid. It was a common occurrence, with Noah’s slightly small stature and soft voice as well as his tendency to want to hold hands with everyone simply because it made him feel more grounded. But Parrish would hold his hand and flit around the med-lab chattering away about bones with no questions asked. 

And then there was Ronan. And Ronan really wishes he didn’t like Parrish. He wished that he didn’t stare at his long and nimble fingers during debriefings and fantasize about running his hands through his hair. He wished that fighting with Parrish was thrilling and painful at the same time. He wished that the stubbornness wasn’t so attractive. That the ability to stand up for himself wasn’t so attractive. That his laugh wasn’t so attractive.

Adam Parrish had the coldest brown eyes he had ever seen. But maybe they were gray, and maybe they were green. Sometimes, he swore he could see colors in there shifting. Parrish, he couldn’t help but think, was both the most colorless and colorful thing he’d seen in his life. And he was beautiful.

And currently he had his fingers pressed to the side of his thigh.

“I’m almost done, I just need to add the bandage.” 

“Hurry up.” he grit out. Ronan cast his eyes up to the sky where buses and trucks were floating. Today’s flavor of bad guy was telekinetic. As far as abilities went, that one was pretty common. Years of dealing with them had led Ronan to be able to form his own pro and con list.

Pro. Telekinesis was physically taxing. You can usually wait them out ‘cause they get tired fast. They tend to be obvious too, going for the big stuff. If it was Ronan he’d just pickpocket all day.

Con. They could fucking fly. Ronan could not fly. Also: they didn’t always lift things. Sometimes they dropped them. Like this particular asshole did with an entire bridge. 

“Where the fuck is my mask?” Ronan grit out. 

Parrish gave the bandage a smack causing him to groan. “You’re sitting on it.”

“Oh shit.” Ronan grabbed the piece of cloth and dragged it over his head. For a moment his vision was dark, and then there was a quick bright blue light as the computer came alive.

“You with me, hotshot?” came Henry’s voice. 

“Rewind that footage.”

“I thought you were raised prim and proper, Lynch. Where are your manners?”  
“Please, dickwad.” Ronan managed to make the word sound like more of a cuss than ‘dickwad’. It was a talent. Ronan’s vision returned and a little window popped up in the right corner of his vision. He watched as the villain lifted the bridge and dropped it, shattered, back to the ground. Past Ronan tackled Past Parrish and nicked his leg on a piece of debris. The window closed.

Present Parrish was wrapping up his med kit and stuffing it back into his messenger bag. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Henry said. “Does the repestible, responsible Dr. Adam Parrish carry a first aid kit with him wherever he goes?” 

Roan relayed the message.

Parrish’s forehead crinkled as he raised an eyebrow. “I’m a doctor.” As if that explained it. 

Overhead, the villain cackled and something went _boom._ Ronan sighed. He wanted to go home. 

Parrish reached out and grabbed his wrist the moment Ronan turned to head back out. “Watch your leg. If you rip the stitches I’m putting them back in and you have to keep them until I say so.” Ronan snarled at him. He only smiled and pushed him gently. “Go get ‘em, cowboy.”

Ronan was suddenly very eager to win this fight.

* * *

Adam was tired. He was always tired, but he was so much more tired than he had been these last two months. He didn’t expect to get caught in the middle of a fight on his way to the store. He certainly didn’t expect it to be the _Greywaren_ that was sent in. He’s not sure what possessed him to get out of his car to see better. He was glad he did, though. When the bridge crashed down, the debris and Adam’s car blocked the two of them enough from the rest of the public for Adam to stitch up Lynch’s leg. 

And now Adam was covered in dust and had blood on his jeans. That part was kind of normal at least. The blood. Lynch apparently had a habit of not actually wanting to use his doctor and there had been many a fight over treatment that resulted in the superhero accidentally slinging blood onto Adam’s clothes. Dr. Parrish was constantly worried about hygiene. Adam was tired of doing laundry.

The apartment lights were on when he got back. He wasn’t surprised; they liked it that way, if even it drained his wallet. The water wasn’t running, fortunately. He hadn’t been gone long enough for them to have made it over to the bathroom yet, but he could never be too sure. Adam dropped his bag onto the floor and draped his jacket on a chair. He looked out onto the large pots full of ferns and short birch trees. “I’m home.” he said.

The plants rustled with joy.

A vine slithered out and wrapped around his ankle. “Did you miss me?” he asked it. It tightened it’s hold. “Yeah, yeah, I know, I’ll feed you in a second.” The vine squeezed once more than released him. Adam sighed and picked his way across the plants that had found their way out of their pots and spilled out to the floor. They writhed as he passed. He ignored them. There were snow peas and tomatoes growing out of his sink.   
He frowned at them. “Please get out of my sink.” If the plants destroyed his pipes he would have to move. The landlord was already too suspicious about the amount of plants he housed and the strange cracks dandelions grew out of. He didn’t want to move, he only got here a few months ago.

The plants receded back to where they came from. Adam stripped off his bloodstained clothes and tossed them in the washer on cold. He grabbed sweats that were thin years of wear, batting away stray roots and vines as they reached for him. Adam made his rounds to the various plants and dripped water from a cup over them. It was not the first time he wished he owned a watering pot. He tried to get one, once, and all of the plants in the nursery began to reach for him before he even reached the register. 

The plants rustled as he made his way to his room. “Turn off the lights,” he said. A fern reached out and flicked off the lights. He brushed his teeth quickly, avoiding the mirror where he knew he would see the natural color of his eyes hidden by earthy roots and vines wriggling beneath his skin. He spit. Mouthwash. Spit, again. Adam collapsed onto his bed and allowed himself to simply think.

He’d be working on the Greywaren team for a while now. Before, he could hide behind his coworkers. He was one of the masses, a simple doctor of the people. Now, even though nobody knew who he directly worked for, he felt exposed and in the spotlight. He’s not quite sure how he’s managed to stay as long as he has. It scares him. 

He’s cordial enough with everyone that he’s sure they’re not secretly trying to manipulate him at this point, but the doubt is there. If Blue didn’t know the truth in high school, the chances she’d notice now are slim. Gansey and Henry seem to be far more interested in his intellect than his ability. Adam was concerned about Gansey’s ability to identify abilities, but for some reason, he never brought it up. Adam assumed Gansey needed to activate his “sight” and simply hadn’t since Dr. Parrish was legally powerless. Lynch didn’t seem like he cared enough to even think about it. Noah— Noah was more dangerous. He’d said nothing suspicious as of yet, but his eyes seemed to see through every lie, every secret. 

Adam was tired of lying. Or made he was just tired. The sun had been long gone by the time he’d finish assessing his teammates. Adam let his eyes drift closed and felt the plants slither over him, a protective blanket that would shield him from any and all dangers.

He slept and dreamt of the night he killed his father.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. That happened. Sorry the Adam POV is so short, but when a chapter's gotta end you gotta let it end. I realized that I've yet to give y'all my Tumblr so message me or just come check it out @monstersanonymous !  
> Sneak peak: "Why is there a pillow fort in your living room?"  
> "Because I wanted a pillow fort, hop off my dick."


	4. Illness and Little Ravens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally much longer, but I've saving some of it to switch back to Ronan POV in the next chapter. But!! More Opal content.  
> Fun fact: Blue and Gansey didn't change their last names when they got married, but they hyphenate them together sometimes as a joke. Gansey has a vintage phone at home because he thought it was haunted and now he's too nostalgic to throw it away.

Ronan Lynch didn’t get sick. He was raised on a farm surrounded by animals with two other boys. He simply did not succumb to illnesses. He didn’t even so much as sniffle from pollen in the spring. 

His daughter on the other hand, attended public school.

“Name?” the secretary asked.

“Lynch, Ronan.” he replied. 

“Student?”  
“Opal Aurora Lynch.” The office was cold as shit. It was always cold as shit. Why did schools always feel the need to keep it ten degrees below dick freezing temperature? Ronan shoved his hands in his pockets and glared at the clock. It was nine in the morning. Opal hadn’t even finished her first class. 

She’d looked awful in the morning. Red nose, watering eyes, and a hoarse voice. But she’d insisted she was fine and said something about a movie in her English class she needed to finish. He’d driven her to school and then plopped himself down at a cafe nearby. The bagel he’d ordered was only half eaten when the school called him to come pick Opal up. 

The girl herself shuffled pitifully towards him. She had her bag slung over one shoulder and her eyes were focused on her feet. 

“Hey, kiddo.” he said. “Feel like crap, huh?”

She nodded weakly. “Wanna go home.”

“Then let’s go home.” He took her bag from her and they piled into the BMW. They got McDonald’s (because despite whatever Gansey and Parrish say, fast food is always the way to go when you’re sick) and drove back home. He sat with Opal until she’d finished her food and then badgered her to take some medicine. 

“I don’t like pills.” she said.

“Do you want to miss two days of school and have two days of makeup work?” 

She took the meds. 

Ronan sent her to her room to rest and lounged on the couch. He flicked through the boring news reports and other channels before settling on some overly-aggressive cooking competition. He was asleep before they announced the winner.

“Dad.” Something was shoving his shoulder. “ _Dad._ ”

He grunted. “I’m asleep.”

“I have a fever.”

Ronan sat upright, nearly smacking Opal in the head. “Oh, fuck.” He looked around. The sun was long gone and the TV had clicked off. Opal was already in pajamas, but her face was far more flushed than before. He rested a palm against her forehead and pulled away with a hiss. 

“Why did you need to check it? I already said I have a fever!” she snapped.

“Temp?”

“101.4”

“Shit, Opal, how did you make it downstairs?!”

She gave him a look that was impressively annoyed for someone with such a high fever. “I have legs. I used them.”

“Alright, Miss Sassy Pants, let’s get you back to bed. I’ll call for help.” Ronan scooped her up into his arms and headed for her room. He used to hold her a lot, when she was young. She was a wild child, sprinting off in any way whenever she got the chance. Opal would fly by on her little face feet and he would have to sweep her off of them and throw her over his shoulder. It was a riot at Declan’s art gallery parties; having a small child wiggling in his arms as he glared down snooty art critics. Now that she was older it was “embarrassing” to be carried around by her dad and she “wasn’t a little kid anymore”. To Ronan, she was still pretty little. But this time, she couldn’t complain on account of her dizziness and weak knees. 

Ronan took advantage of the rare occasion and tucked her in and kissed her forehead; yet another thing that she’d protested to as of late. A bottle of aspirin and a glass of water were placed on her nightstand. He went back downstairs to hunt for his phone and called Gansey as soon as he found it.

“Richard Campell Sargent-Gansey III, how can I help you?” came a voice from the other end.

Ronan sighed. “Maggot.”

“Yeah, it's me. You never call, is something wrong?”

“If something was wrong, would you answer the phone with a fucking joke?”

“You didn’t press the panic button, so I didn’t panic.” Blue pointed out. When Ronan officially inherited the estate, he had a button installed incase of emergencies. Like being murdered in your own home. 

“Opal’s sick. Fever.” 

“Oh shit, lemme get Gansey.” There was rustling on the other end and then soft whispers. “Babe, babe, wake up, Lynch called.”

A groggy voice. “Ronan? Call?”

“Yeah, yeah. Here, the phone.”

“Ronan?” Gansey’s voice, clearer than it was a second ago.

Ronan grunted into the speaker. 

“Is something wrong?”  
“Opal has a fever. 101.4.” 

Gansey hissed. “That’s not very good. I’ll call Adam.”

“Huh? No. Just bring some fancy meds from the lab.”

“Ronan, she needs professional help from a real doctor. And it’s not like you can take her into Urgent Care.”

Ronan was silent for a bit, weighing his options. “Fine.”

“Wonderful. I’ll call him right now.”

“Now? Dick, wait, it’s the middle of the—”

 _Click_. Ronan looked at the CALL ENDED symbol on his screen and sighed.

* * *

Adam was, unsurprisingly, awake when Gansey called. The day had been uncharastically easy, just helping out other doctors in his former wing, since Lynch wasn’t called in today. Noah had said that he was allowed to take the day off, but Adam would rather not spend his day alone with the plants crawling all over him. 

So, he picked up on the first ring.

“Adam! Lovely, you answer. Did I wake you? Apologies.” Gansey didn’t give him time to answer. “See, I’m so sorry to call you in at this hour but there’s a slight emergency with Ronan and—”

“Emergency? Was there a fight?”

“What? Oh no, no, no, nothing like that. You see, his daughter picked up a nasty little bug somewhere and is currently running a rather concerning fever. He can’t take her into UC, for reasons that are his to tell you if he so wishes, but he does need a doctor. I’ll send you the address so you can check in.” A beat of silence. “If you're willing to go, of course.”

Adam’s head was reeling. Daughter? Ronan Lynch had a daughter? One he can’t take to urgent care for classified reasons? 

“Adam?”

“What? Oh, sorry, yeah, I’ll go.”

“Splendid! I’ll send you the address shortly. I think you’ll love the place.” And then he hung up. 

The drive was long. It was an impractical distance, for Lynch and his job, but Adam gave him points for the view. It was a beautiful small farm, with cows and what looked like a chicken coop. There was a field of wildflowers that stretched towards Adam as he walked by. He paid them no attention and rang the doorbell. The sky was just beginning to blush with the rise of the sun.

Lynch opened the door, looking grumpy, annoyed, and unusually tired. “Took you long enough.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “Your house is far.”

“Fuck you, my house is the perfect distance from human civilization.”

“Am I allowed inside or am I supposed to treat your mysterious daughter on your porch?” Adam asked.

Lynch’s face shuttered shut. He’d hit a nerve of some sort. Lynch stalked away from the door, but left it open. Adam took that to mean he could enter. The house was. . . nice. It was really really nice. It hurt Adam, just a bit. He knew that with his salary and savings now, he could live in a house like this, but being this close to this amount of nature would be dangerous. 

The floor was almost entirely wooden and the living room was adorned with a plush looking leather couch. And, well, there was also—

“Why is there a pillow fort in your living room?”

Lynch’s nose crinkled. “Because I wanted a pillow fort, hop off my dick.” 

A small murmur came from underneath the precariously stacked pillows and blankets. “Dad?”

Adam watched in awe as all of the tension melted away from Lynch’s face. A single word, and his face no longer looked like anger was housed there. He crouched down and lifted a fold of the blanket, revealing gentle fairy lights and a small girl bundled in even more blankets.

“Hey, hey, Dr. Parrish is here.” he cooed softly. Lynch crawled inside the fort, a hilarious sight given his awkwardly long limbs. “We’ll get you better real soon.” He looked up and glared at Adam, a silent _get your ass in here_. Adam folded himself down and joined them.

“Hi.” he started awkwardly. “I’m Dr. Adam Parrish.”

The girl cracked her eyes open. “I know.” 

He didn’t know how to respond to that.

Lynch stroked the girl’s pale blonde hair, a movement that was startling natural for him. “How are you feeling now?”

“Like shit, what do you think?” Yeah, that was definitely Lynch’s daughter.

“L- uh, Mr. Lynch if you give me a moment, I’ll be able to access her symptoms.” Dr. Parrish said. 

“Whatever, just be quick about it.” 

Dr. Parrish shifted closer and rested a hand on the girl’s forehead. As he conducted a light physical exam, he tried his best to keep up a conversation. 

“What’s your name?”

“Opal Aurora Lynch.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

“Sure.”

“How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

“Fourteen, huh? Are you in high school yet?”

“Eighth grade.”

“What’s your favorite animal, Opal?”

“ _Corvus mellori._ ” Adam startled at the latin name. He looked up and made eye contact with Lynch, who simply smirked proudly. 

“That’s a very specific type. Why not a common raven?”

Opal’s eyes rolled towards him, not having expected him to know the latin name for the little raven. “Hop hop.” was all she said.

Adam looked back to Lynch for explanation.

“Hop hop.” said Lynch, smiling sharp enough to cut glass. 

“Well, okay then.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some lighter stuff in this one and perhaps setting up some bonding time? We shall see  
> Sneak Peak: "Is that a bird?"  
> "It's a raven, fucknut."  
> "That's still a bird!"


	5. Opal and Machine Guns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *smacks you with backstory*  
> I really like this chapter but BOY IT IS LONG  
> Fun Facts: I make myself pillow forts when I'm sick because I usually get so dizzy I can't get into bed, so that's where that comes from. Also: Adam's never been to a farm or petting zoo type thing.

Dr. Parrish knew his shit, Ronan had to give him that. It took more time for him to drag answers out of Opal than it took for him to diagnose him. That was kind of funny to watch. Parrish and his attempt to small talk versus Opal and her inherent brattiness. Ronan was proud. Parrish handed him a little slip of paper with words he didn’t know written on them.

“What the fuck is this?”

He raised an eyebrow. “A prescription? I’m technically not here on work hours, so I can’t give you anything, but take it to the nearest pharmacy and they’ll get you squared away.”

Ronan shook his head. “No, I got it.” 

“You got it?” Ronan didn’t respond and headed right for the couch. “Wait, Lynch—”

“Shut your mouth.” he snapped. “ I need to focus.”

There was rustling inside the pillow fort and a little white-blonde head poked out of the blankets. “Are you getting me the good drugs?” said Opal, voice scratchy with what was apparently just a bad flu. 

“Yeah, baby. Gimme five.”

“Cool.” She went immediately back to sleep. 

Ronan felt Parrish’s presence like a chain on his foot. He was always aware of him, but having an audience while he created was unnerving. Especially with his clinical and calculating eyes. He was certain nothing slipped by those eyes. 

Ronan let his own eyes fall shut and pictured the words in Parrish’s neat handwriting. He felt a tug from deep in his own head and soon plastic in his hand. The pills rattled as Ronan drifted back into reality. 

“It’s this shit, right? I don’ wanna have to go back because I messed up your fuckin’ order.” He shook the pill bottle in front of Parrish’s face.

“I— yeah, that’s it.” Parrish looked like he had questions pushing at the seam of his lips.

Ronan needed to stop thinking about Parrish’s lips.

He stuffed the bottle into the pillow fort. Opal’d find it whenever she woke up. Ronan looked back to Parrish. Amidst all the panic, he hadn’t been able to think too deeply about his presence. Now, well. Parrish looked simultaneously at home adn out of place at the Barns. He looked cold, detached. A different kind of magic than Ronan’s childhood home, but magic nonetheless. Ronan hated the coldness. He hated the professional way Parrish talked. He really fucking hated that sometimes he would see Parrish have conversations and notice that he wasn’t really there at all.

_Where do you go, in that head of yours?_

So what if he’d picked fights because he got to see emotion? So what if he chose the pettiest of topics just to see him snap? To see life behind those eyes? Sometimes he’d say dumb stuff just to see the corners of his mouth twitch into something genuine. Sue him. He was a weak man. 

Ronan grunted. “Sorry ‘bout calling you at such a shit hour.”

“Oh? What’s this? A sincere apology from local badboy Ronan Lynch?” Ronan hadn’t apologized to get a smile out of him, but he sure as fuck wasn’t taking it back now. 

“Local bad boy? I’m a fucking saint upon the Earth.”

Parrish let out a small chuckle. “Satan’s saint, maybe. You’re a menace to society.”  
“I am a perfect, good, Catholic man.” Ronan said, placing his hand on his chest like an offended 80 year old woman at a grocery checkout.

Parrish studied him for a second. “You really are, aren’t you?”

“Huh?”

“Catholic.”

“Shit, Parrish, you haven’t figured it out yet?” Ronan didn’t really blame him. He knew what he looked like.

Parrish shook his head. “Had you down for Christian, couldn’t peg the denomination. Makes sense.” He perched on the armrest of the couch. “What’s her story?”

A muscle flex in his jaw. “Who the fuck says there’s a story?”

Parrish fixed him with his “Dr. Parrish” stare. The stare that said “don’t act like a fucking idiot, you know what I’m talking about asshat”. Not that he would ever say that outloud but Ronan could read between the lines. 

He sighed. “What questions do you have?”

“Well, starters, you’re not her biological parent, correct?”

Ronan nodded. “Do I get an explanation on that line of thinking?”

“You’re gay.” His heart skipped a beat. It’s not something he’s hiding, not these days, but it's unnerving for someone to know that without him having said it outloud to them. 

Parrish must have caught on to his reaction because he said: “Don’t flip, I’m not in a place to judge you. Just an observation.” Ronan let teh quiet sit, a silent push to say more. An empty space for something that felt a little too close to hope. Parrish sighed. “I’m bi. Great we’ve had that conversation; now, Opal, she’s not yours.”

“I could have had a surrogate mom, fucknut.”

“Did you get a surrogate mother at 20 years old as a single man?”

“Who said I was single?”

“Lynch.”

“Also, I got Opal twelve years ago. So I was 22. Suck on that.”

“Are we seriously having a— never mind.” Parrish pinched the bridge of his nose. “So she’s adopted.”

“She was.”

Parrish drummed his fingers on the leather of the couch. Ronan watched them. “Then what’s your reasoning for not taking her to a hospital? She doesn’t have your genetics, you adopted her legally, I’m assuming, and nobody knows your identity, so it’s not that big of a risk.”

Ronan let his head drop backwards and stared at the ceiling. It was that wack ass pokey texture. Probably would make a good back scratcher. “She’s dead.” he said.

Parrish didn’t say anything. He didn’t gasp, he didn’t flinch. Ronan couldn’t see him, but he’d bet big money that Parrish’s hadn’t even blinked. He was simply still, waiting for Ronan to continue. 

“She was a small thing. You know, they call them terrible twos, but it’s not like I saw her at one, so I just assume she was a goblin from the fucking get go. When we were home she’d babble her head off but whenever company came ‘round her lips were tight as shit. Made a liar out of me, I was telling everyone about my chatterbox daughter who’d bounce off the walls and there she was, quiet and still as a mouse.” Tears pricked his eyes. He doesn’t think about this time of life too often. He’d gotten her because he was lonely. Because he’d lifted a chunk of concrete off of her parent’s mangled bodies and when he looked into her eyes he didn’t want to let her go. He had to, of course, turn her over to the police, but he made Cheng track her down as soon as he was out of his suit.

“And then she died.” Parrish said.

Ronan nodded. “And then she died.” He laughed, but it was self deprecating and dry. “I’m a superhero. I’m supposed to fucking save people, to help them and shit. But at the end of the day I missed her. She drowned and I just fucking missed her.” It was an accident. Bad luck. But he should have been paying attention. Some hotshot with it out for a rando had attack the park they were at. Ronan sprung into action, fueled by youth and a sense of duty. He’d told Opal to hide under a bench. When the fight was over, she had disappeared. Three hours later, her body washed up on a rocky shore. She’d been knocked over the railing at the cliff at some point. She’d broken her neck upon impact with the water, but the water killed her. 

“She was three years old. I’d had her for one fucking year.” Ronan took a deep breath. “I don’t remember much after that. Got fucked up. Fell back into old habits. Didn’t talk to Gansey or Noah for a while. And then one day, she was back. I woke up in the morning to a shit hangover and she was just. . . sleeping in her room. Like nothing had happened.”

Parrish looked from the pillow fort to Ronan and back. “You made her.”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you couldn’t do living creatures.”

He shook his head. “I _don’t_ do living creatures. I don’t know what their limits are and I’m not using them like fucking lab rats.”

“So you can’t take her to the hospital because of records.”

“Yeah. Gansey fudged enough that I could get her into school and shit but,” He shrugged. “I don’t even know if she had internal organs or whatever. She bleeds, she gets sick,” He waved a hand at the fort. “And she breaks bones like any other normal fucking human, but I’m not choping up my daughter to see—”

Parrish cocked his head to the side. “She’s real enough for you. That’s what matters.”

Ronan eyed him. “I thought you’d fucking jump the gun at a new test subject, Dr. Parrish.”

He hummed. “I am curious about a good number of things, but I’m not a monster. I have morals. She’s your daughter, it's your say.”

* * *

Adam could tell he’d shocked the other man. Lynch’s eyes were narrowed as if deciding if he believed him, and Adam could see the second he decided he did. For all of Ronan Lynch’s terrifying demeanor, Adam couldn’t help but think he had the warmest blue eyes he had ever seen. It made him miss his own. 

A goofy grin spread across Lynch’s face. “Do you like cows?”

“Do I—” Adam paused. “Cows?”

“Yeah, cows.”

“I don’t. . . _not_ like cows.”

“Great, let’s fucking go.” Lynch thrust himself upright, apparently deciding that Opal no longer needed supervision. 

“Go? Where?”

Another shark-like grin. “This place isn’t called the Barns for nothing.”

Adam had, in fact, not known this place was called the Barns. He wasn’t surprised that Lynch owned a named estate. From what Gansey had said, it was his childhood home and his father gave it to him in the will. The names Declan and Matthew were thrown in that conversation as well, but Adam didn’t have a clear grasp on that situation. 

Lynch led him around through the house and out the back. Adam tried desperately to not let the obvious wealth itch at a section of his brain that he thought he’d left in a trailer park. Everything from the granite counters to the polished wooden barriers oozed comfort and money. Dr. Parrish wasn’t poor. Not like he used to be. He had a doctor’s salary, of course, and that was well cushioned by working for the Greywaren. But it was still an itch. Trailer Park Adam Parrish still lived in his heart. Adam just hadn’t found a way to smother him yet.

They trudged through a beaten dirt path, barely visible in the pale morning light. Adam felt plants try to slither and wrap around his ankles. He ignored them. Lynch led him to a barn that was covered in thick vines and looked like it would fall over at any second.

He caught Adam’s suspicious look and said: “Relax, Parrish. This thing has been up for like fifty fucking years, it’s not going to collapse on us any time soon.”

Adam glared at him. “That’s not exactly reassuring.” Lynch merely laughed. Adam realized that this was probably the longest they’ve been in each other’s presence. At least when Adam wasn’t wrist deep in his guts digging out shrapnel. He didn’t count that as “hanging out”. Hearing so many words fall out of Lynch’s mouth at once was kind of off putting. He had a way of weaving curses together like poetry, but emotions seemed to tumble out heavily. 

“C’mere,” Lynch beckoned him over to a stall. “This is Machine Gun.”

“Pardon?”

“Machine Gun.”

Adam looked into the stall and locked eyes with a young, curly, brown cow with eyes wider than dinner plates. “Machine Gun?”

“Machine Gun.”

“. . . Okay.” 

Lynch turned towards him and held his palm out. It took about five seconds of Adam staring dumbly at him for him to huff and grab his wrist. He pulled, insistently but gently, on it until Adam’s hand was hovering over Machine Gun’s head. 

“Don’t fuckin’ pussyfoot around the cow, Parrish.” he huffed.

“I am not ‘fuckin’ pussyfooting’ around Machine Gun, I am simply respecting her boundries.” 

Lynch grinned, wild and sharklike.

“What?”

“You should cuss more often.” 

Adam felt warmth rise uncomfortable in his cheeks. “Some of us have class, Lynch.” He leaned forward, over the door to the stall, and rested his hand amongst the dark curls of the cow. It was soft, softer than he expected. Machine Gun didn’t even blink as he gently rubbed her head. He found himself smiling softly. She tilted her face up to him as he ran a finger from her forehead to the tip of her nose. His heart squeezed with the urge to jump the wall and wrap himself around her in a warm and fuzzy embrace. He didn’t know if that was because it had simply been too long since he hugged someone last, or if that was just the effect cows had.

“Holy shit.”

Adam startled and looked back to Lynch. He had at some point clambered up into the rafters and was dangerously straddling a beam.

“If you fall and break something, I’m quitting my job as your doctor.”

Lynch snorted and leaned back. Adam’s heart pounced with panic. “Chill, Parrish, I do this all the time.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely thinking about quitting now.”

Lynch grabbed the end of his t-shirt and hiked it up. He tied a knot so that it rose higher, like a makeshift crop top. Adam watched as he leaned forward again and stretched his hand out into a dark corner. He drew back, holding something Adam couldn’t see, and stuffed it down his shirt. He swung himself down and landed deftly on his feet in front of Adam.

“Look at this.” He reached his hand down his shirt and withdrew whatever it was that he grabbed earlier. 

“Is that a bird?”

“It’s a raven, fucknut.”

“That’s still a bird!” It was a tiny thing that fit entirely inside Lynch’s palm. It’s feathers were glossy and dark, but it’s eyes were creepily dark and intelligent. “Put it back, Lynch. What about it’s mother?”

Lynch shook his head. “Nest looked pretty much abandoned. She’s probably been abandoned.”

“She? How do you know it’s female?” Lynch shrugged. “Okay, what are you going to do with her?”

“Raise her.”

“Like a pet?”

“Sure. Opal’ll love her.” Adam still had doubts, but it wasn’t exactly his place to comment or judge. “I’ll name her Chainsaw.”

“What the fuck.”

“It’s cute.”

“No? Is that age appropriate for your daughter?” 

Another shrug. “She named Machine Gun.” 

Adam couldn’t help but laugh a bit. “Oh, you two are totally related.”

Lynch grinned proudly. “Right? I raised her well.”

Adam thought about Opal. About the obvious trust and love she and her father shared. About her snark and obvious intelligence. It made his heart ache in a way it hadn’t in years. “Yeah,” he said softly. “You did.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> foreshadowing foreshadowing foreshadowing  
> Leave comment I love getting them! Kudos too!  
> Sneak Peak: "Adam. Why doesn't your form say you have an ability?"


	6. The Lynch Brothers and Robert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh this one is kind of gruesome but it's necessary so I apologize to my more squeamish readers.  
> Fun fact: Matthew's rant is based 100% on something my cousin said. Please picture him saying all of his without taking a breath. Adam Parrish had a homecoming proposal planned his senior year of high school for Blue, but after mentioning those kind of things to her, he promptly threw all of it away based on her reaction.

Everything hurt. It really fucking hurt. Ronan probably had multiple broken bones and a concussion. And he was bleeding. He didn’t know from where. His suit was drenched black with blood, his and the villain’s. The holographic screen produced by his masks flickered in front of him.

“-eywaren? Greywaren? Ronan!” Henry’s voice crackled in his ear.

“Fuck.” Ronan coughed. He could barely breathe. “Medic. Parrish. Fuck.” he mumbled, groaning as he sank to the floor. He was in a warehouse on the coastline. The villain had been one with some sort of strength ability that sent shock waves through the air. Ronan had gone immediately for a gun, but the waves sent the bullet right back to him. He’d been forced to use a sword, which was far sloppier than he preferred, and frankly crueller. The villain was a cocaine poisoning piece of shit, but being stabbed to death was a brutal fucking fate. 

“Adam’s coming, Ronan, hold on.”

“-e through. Cheng! Patch me through right now!” _Parrish._

Ronan wheezed. “Doc.”

“Lynch.” Ronan could hear the panic in his voice, and the struggle to mask it with calm. “Assessment.”

“Broken bones. Bleeding. Dunno where. Head hurts.”  
“Okay. I want you to regulate your breaths and lay down as flat as you can. We’ll be right there. Do your best not to sleep.” he instructed. “I don’t want your brain shutting down on me, brain surgery isn't my thing.”

“Aye aye, cap’n.” Ronan choked out. It took about about ten minutes for Parrish and Cheng’s helicopter to find him. He spent the time writing dirty poems in his head in latin, to stay awake. Parrish was in a flurry, but a controlled one. His movements were quick and level headed. Ronan was disappointed to find that the pain distracted him from Parrish’s hands poking and prodding in an effort to analyze his wound. He then thought that it was maybe a bad idea to thirst after his doctor while the man was trying to save his life.

“Bullet entered the first layer of muscle half an inch to the left of the thoracic spine.” Parrish murmured into his own headset. “We need muscle grafts, blood transfusion, and nerve repair. Cheng, can you get the machine up and running for me? ETA seven minutes.”

Parrish’s headset crackled with response.

“Thanks.” he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a bunch of dominos.

“The fuck?” Ronan asked.

“New tech. Has only been field tested once, but I’m not carrying you to the copter myself and the pilot has to stay on.” He laid them out around Ronan’s body and then tapped one of them twice. There was a low hum and then Ronan was being lifted slightly off the ground.

“Are you fucking _mag-leving_ me?”

Parrish gave him a gentle push and Ronan’s body glided through the air. “I don’t think mag-leving is a word. It is magnetic levitation specifically designed to levitate your own magnetic field, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I can walk, shithead.”

Parrish flicked him in the forehead. “I forbid it.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to hurt your own patients, Doc.”

“You’re not a patient, you’re a nuisance. A menace.”

Ronan grinned. “Well, shit, Parrish. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“I’m going to knock you out in the chopper until after surgery. It’ll keep you from remembering the pain and from involuntary struggling. Also, it will save me the headache.”

Ronan tried to think of a funny response. Instead, his head filled itself with fuzz. The world seemed to blur a bit and he felt as if he was slowly tipping over. “Adam?” he said, mouth feeling heavy. “Did you already give me the drugs?”

“Hm? No. Are you—Lynch. _Lynch._ Stay with me. Keep your eyes on me, breath steady.” Parrish sounded panicked. There was strain in his voice that Ronan hadn’t heard before. “Lynch, breathe. Look at me, c’mon, _Ronan!_ ”

He woke to a sickeningly white room. Med-Bay. His. . . well, his _everything_ felt sore, which meant that whenever what fuckin’ painkillers he was one faded he’d feel like absolute shit. The lights are irritatingly bright, as they usually do, and the big ass fancy machine that Cheng made for med is humming. Ronan could feel the cold from the IV in his arm. IV’s are significantly shittier than stitches, he decided. The cold is worse than feeling a string tug through the deep layers of your skin. 

“Ronan.” someone breathed next to him.

“Dickhead.” he groaned. 

Ronan couldn’t see him, but he could feel Declan’s frown. “I feel like there are nicer ways to greet your brother who was concerned for your life.”

“Why did you come?”

“Richard called us.”

“Us?”

Matthew took that exact moment to make a timely appearance, pushing into the Med-Bay, chattering away. “— and then I was like, dude, you’re totally cheating at SmashBros. How does one cheat as SmashBros, because it’s like _SmashBros_ you know? And apparently, this entire time, you can save yourself from dying! Like if you fall you don’t just _fall_ you can jump on air! Isn’t that awesome? So, anyway, I called Ronan to tell him this because I thought it would be super duper cool of me to share this information and he picked up the phone—which was kind of creepy like he never picks up his phone when you call him, have you tried to call him? You should try to call him, see if he picks up. Anyway, so I call Ronan and he picks up and I say “Dude you can jump on air in SmashBros” and he says “Yeah, I fuckin’ know”, you know, in that voice he has. Apparently my brothers have been lying to me this entire time! I thought I was really good at video games but I was just being lied to!” His arms were waving wildly about and he had a small game console in his hand.

Dr. Parrish was next to him, nodding along to every word he said. Matthew chattered away as Parrish looked like he was struggling not to let his eyes glaze over. He looked unusually guant, like he hasn’t slept in weeks. Ronan would know what it looks like. He’d seen it before in the mirror.

“Parrish.” he coughed. Parrish’s attention visibly snapped away from Matthew to the bed where Ronan was propped.

“Ly—Ronan. Good to see you awake.” Ronan’s brain did a funny thing where it shut down and rebooted. Ronan? _Ronan?!_ When the fuck had he become _Ronan_ and not Lynch? He’d thought they were sticking to last names like he did in his shitty ass highschool. He wasn’t even sure if Parrish had known his name.

Ronan’s internal monologue remained on a constant _what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck_ as Parrish walked around to the side of the bed and checked his vitals on the computer.

“How long since full consciousness, Mr. Lynch?” he asked, not looking away from the screen. Ronan startled slightly because _seriously what the fuck first Ronan now Mr. Lynch? That’s goddamn whiplash right there Jesus_ —

“About ten minutes. Long enough to cuss at me.” Declan answered.

Oh. _Oh._ Three Lynch’s in one room. The eldest Lynch being Dick-lan. Ronan felt stupid and a little silly for thinking something personal had changed. Then he felt stupid and silly for feeling stupid and silly.

His eyes drifted over to Parrish’s profile as he typed into the computer.

Fuck, this was going to be a problem.

* * *

Adam did not know if he liked Ronan’s brother or not. On one hand, Declan was everything he’d once wanted to be. He was charming, smart, objectively handsome, rich, and, for all he could tell, fairly boring. On the other hand, Adam couldn’t help but be a little disappointed that he wasn’t more like Lynch. He didn’t quite know what to make of that revelation. The other two brothers were undoubtedly _like_ Lynch. Declan and he shared the same bone structure, though Lynch held more violence in his bones while Declan’s held something that was more like authority. He and Matthew had the same smile that promised mischief and disaster, but Adam found himself missing his eyes. Eyes that clung to him like cobwebs, eyes that were mysteriously warm. Adam wasn’t stupid. He knew what attraction looked like. 

He just. . .wasn’t quite sure what to do about it in this particular situation.

Lynch left with his brothers shortly after he’d regained consciousness. Dr. Parrish signed off on the release forms and added a list of things he should be doing in order to make sure he’d fully recovered, but he knew the chances of the man following those were slim.

He slumped into the office chair in the Med-Bay and let his anxiety of the day shed like snake skin. His back hurt (it always hurt, he spent the majority of his day hunched over charts and computers) and he could feel a migraine forming. He got maybe a minute of peace to himself before Gansey pushed his way into the room.

“Adam! You, sir, are a Godsend. A true angel amongst men. All of us, though Ronan may never admit it, are extremely lucky to have you here.” he said, pulling up a chair.

“Thanks. It’s just my job.”

Gansey shook his head. “Allow yourself the praise. You saved a man’s life today, you get to be proud about it.”

Adam did not feel proud. He felt tired. He had time to be proud later. “I owe a lot to Cheng. His magnets helped a lot.”

“I’ll be sure to pass on the message when I see him tonight.”

“You staying late?”

“Wrapping up some paperwork and official forms and such today.” Adam nodded. Gansey may have been a key part of their stratigecs, but he was still the head of a large company and Blue would rather murder than spent hours sitting at a desk reading forms. 

“Make sure you get a good amount of sleep. You’ve said your insomnia is better than it was in your younger days, but insomnia is insomnia.”

“Ah, the every responsible Dr. Parrish makes his appearance. Speaking of forms,” Gansey paused. “Adam. Why doesn’t your form say you have an ability?”

He froze. His blood turned to ice in his veins and for a moment there was only silence. Deafening silence, the kind that steals the air from your lungs and the rhythm from your heartbeat. 

“What?” he choked out. “Ability?”

Gansey leaned back in his chair, a position with far too comfortable body language for Adam’s peace of mind. “It’s quite possible. . .” he trailed off.

“Gansey?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Gansey pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and shook out his hair with a light run of his fingers. Adam struggled to breathe again. “I was just running some scenarios in my head. Adam, are you aware you have an ability?”

Adam didn’t say anything, just let the confusion show on his face.

“I thought that may be it, it would be unlike you to lie on a form about such a thing.”

“I—” Adam clenched his fist. “Can you see my ability?”

“Hm? Oh, yes. It’s a couple of words that sort of,” he waved his hands in front of Adam’s face. “Float around you.”

“What does it say?” His jaw burned from clenching it so hard. He could feel all of the plants in the city begin to stir in his distress. 

“It says, _beloved by plants._ I assumed that simply meant you just had quite the green thumb, so there was in fact a high chance that you were unaware it was a power. I’m quite glad we got all of that business sorted out!” Ganse slapped his knees and stood. “I guess I should go update your form now.” He turned and headed to the door. Adam couldn’t move. Gansey paused at the door and turned back to him. “You know, Adam, I am your friend. If you ever need to talk, I’m here for you.”

He forced a smile to his face. “Thanks, Gansey.”

The Med-Bay doors swung closed, and soon, Adam heard the chime of the elevator leaving the floor. He waited until he was positive he was in the clear before slumping over like a released balloon. 

_Beloved by plants._ It made so much sense. Adam’d never been to an identifier, he also didn’t know how Gansey’s ability worked. _Green thumb_ .Adam thought to himself. _Sure._

He was seventeen. Young enough to have time to worry about things like dating and prom. Old enough to know that if he gets home fifteen minute early, to wait ten outside for else he’ll get hit for wasting time. Young enough to be worried that the local rich boys would tease him on the street. Old enough to know how to stitch a wound closed and properly ice so he could get to school the next day and have his classmates be none the wiser.

After the Event, people called Robert Parrish a lot of things. Kind. Strong. A family man. Rude. Greedy. A violent drunk. Nobody ever really knew the truth about the Event. They called a storm, a freak of nature. An accident, a mistake. Only Adam knew the truth. And he was taking that shit to the grave.

It was homecoming night. Homecoming wasn’t something he’d ever worried about before, but this year was different. This year he had Blue. Blue wasn’t exactly a homecoming type girl, but she was in the photography club and therefore had to go. So the two of them might as well make it a date. That was their thought process. Adam had borrowed a suit that barely fit him from one of the neighbors. He’d planned to meet Blue at the school in an hour, but he was already dressed and ready.

And then Robert came home.

It was like a scene from a movie. It was almost comical, how the sky cracked open with wind and thunder as the man burst through his front door. How his wife quickly dragged things out of his sight that would infuriate him. How Adan’s hair stood on end. He wasn’t supposed to be home this early. He would later learn that his father had been laid off for drinking on the job. At the moment, he only knew three things.

  1. His mother had taken off, saying something about buying him more beer.
  2. His father was angry. Really, really angry.
  3. His head hurt. A lot.



Adam writhed on the ground, surrounded by blood and shards of glass. The beer bottle that had been thrown at him had shattered as it hit the floor at the same time Adam did. His father was roaring about him, but Adam couldn’t tell if there were supposed to be words amidst those roars or if it was simply the sound of anger. His ear was ringing. Everything hurt. He was used to pain. He knew pain. He knew fear. This? This was worse. At some point his father had produced a gun and was waving above him like a trophy. There were yells, insults, slurs, and then there was a loud pop.

Warmth spread down the left side of Adam’s face. _Oh fuck. He shot me._

The world seemed to shut down, one sense at a time. Hearing, taste, smell, feel, sight. Adam was left with only a thought.

 _Save me_.

He’s not sure what happened after that. He woke up sometime later to his mother’s screaming. When he opened his eyes, they fell upon his father. Or what used to be his father. His corpse was mangled and pinned to the wall of the trailer by an enormous branch. Adam watched in sickened awe of the smaller sections and leaves of the branch reached for him. They caressed his face and wound around his fingers. He understood them, not in any language, but rather a feeling. _You are safe._

He felt like throwing up. He felt like screaming for joy.

_Did I do this?_

_You asked for it. We provided._ _We salvaged what we could, but we could not save your ear._

Adam’s hand flew to his left ear. It was intact, but Adam could feel something underneath his skin, like warmth beneath a blanket. He took off, away from his mother, out of the trailer and into nowhere. The trees and bushes shifted and made way for him as he ran until he ended up on the steps of some small run down church. He made a beeline for the bathroom and locked himself in.

The mirror showed him a gaunt boy. He had blood on his face but no visible wounds. And his eyes. . . they were brown. Adam didn’t have brown eyes. He frowned and leaned in closer to the mirror. Something in his iris shifted and blue was revealed beneath it. A scream caught in his throat as he launched himself backwards. _That’s_ what was inside of him. Roots, branches, leaves, plants. 

_What, what is this? What’s going on?_

He could feel the plants inside him, around him, hum with pleasure of him acknowledging them. _We saved you, just as you were beyond saving. We pump your blood, we keep your heart beating._

Adam gripped his wrists. Something underneath his finger tips shifted and he winced as he felt a small pin prick. A small flower was growing out of his skin. He frowned and watched as it retreated back underneath the layers, not even leaving a drop of blood behind. 

It took him years to become accustomed to it. He sacrificed his relationships, friendships, devoting his time to school and understanding this new ability. He learned that the further away he is from plants, the more they leave him alone. The plants never truly leave him, so he took to keeping potted ones and letting just a few weeds and vines work their way into his various apartments. They responded to his emotions. Too many a night has he woken up to a cocoon of vines, protecting him from an evil that lives only in his nightmares. Roots have tripped bad dates, flowers lean towards good ones. Adam took all of this knowledge and stored it. 

And then Dr. Parrish discovered doctors that were specifically geared to people with abilities. He threw himself into med school, residency, paramedics. He dug through every paper, every study, everybook, anything that would give him more insight on himself. Then he met Blue, again. Happily married to the head of a company that employed people with abilities to be superheroes. He started working in their Medics, determined to hide his ability for forever.

Gansey thought it was just a green thumb. He could work with that. No one needed to know exactly how it worked, no one but Adam himself.

 _Beloved by plants._ Adam looked down at his veins, where he knew small roots sat. _That about sums it up._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew ok. This one took me a WHILE  
> Let the speculations begin. I, for one, am very excited.  
> Sneak Peak: "You're not a very good liar."  
> "Some of us practice good fucking Catholic morals, Czerny."  
> "I was going to say it's because we've been friend for so long, but sure."


	7. Running Away and Shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 11:26 PM. Yikes.  
> Fun fact: Noah's thing about touching actually stems from a friend of mine who uses touch to curb her social anxiety. Gansey has an entire filing cabinet full of ties at his office. That's based off of a teach of mine who stores his ties at work because his wife hates them all.

Ronan was exiled. He didn’t care it Gansey called it “temporary leave” or Parrish called it “bedrest you big baby” (those were always the exact words), it was fucking exile. He was cooped up in his house, watching TV and waiting for his daughter to get home like some _loser_. Five days. He had five days of this shit. It was day three. Ronan was going to go nuts. He loved the Barns, he did. But he didn’t like them nearly as much when he wasn’t allowed to leave. There are only so many times you can check on the cows and the little garden out back.

The Barns was a farm to the average person, but legally it wasn't really. They had a couple of cows that didn’t come into the world through natural means, some that did, a handful of goats that were essentially wild which how nutso they were, and a small garden. It was enough that Ronan didn’t have to hire too many people to care for the animals (actually Declan pays them but Ronan is that one that gets to yell at them if they fuck up). 

He spent a lot of his free hours on the couch, cooking, or sitting on a cow. Chainsaw, who he guessed was about four weeks old now, had taken to following either him or Opal around. When he was home, she would perch on his shoulder or circle above him. When Opal was home, she sat in her lamp like a goddamn cat. On this day, she was pecking at the rug like it would yield her some grubs. It wouldn’t, Ronan cleaned it this morning.

“Stop that. If you ruin it, Declan will bitch at me for at least two hours.” Ronan snapped.

Chainsaw looked at him as if to say _So what, fuckass, he’ll find something else to bitch about soon enough._

_Yeah but he’ll definitely bitch about the rug._

_At least you know it’s coming._

Ronan lost the imaginary argument with his bird.

It was days like this that Ronana missed when Opal was younger. When it was just the two of them, baking and rolling around in the mud all day. But apparently dreamed children don’t stay young forever. He tried his best to keep her homeschool through the various tutors Declan and Gansey got her, but on her tenth birthday, she wanted something different.

They were eating waffles, the classic birthday dinner. She was picking at them, cutting at them until they were small pieces drenched in chocolate syrup and whipped cream.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Why am I homeschooled?”

Ronan had been a little worried, but it wasn’t an unusual conversation for them. “Because it’s safer, baby. Eat your waffles, you made them yourself.”

“But _why_ is it safer?”

“Because your Daddy is a superhero and sometimes he makes enemies.”

Opal had huffed and set her fork down, a surprising amount of sass for a ten year old. “But nobody knows who you are! They’re not gonna come get me if they don’t know I exist!”

“Opal. It’s safer. End of the fu— end of discussion.”

“Well I don’t wanna be homeschooled! I want friends! Like the girls have on TV! I wanna hang out with people and go shopping and do our homework together!”

“First of all, Opal, you’re ten years old, I’m not about to let you go shopping with only a group of your friends. Second, what if someone attacked the school you’re at? Or your friends? I can’t always be there in time.”

“What if someone attacked me while you were away?”

“That’s why we have the alarm system and someone is always watching the house while I’m gone.” Ronan had snapped. It was, in hindsight, a little more aggressive than he wanted it to be, but the conversation was starting to get on his nerves. “You will be homeschool. Full stop.”

Opal had practically thrown herself from the table with tears in her eyes, shouting: “Worst birthday ever!” as her little legs took her to her room.

Ronan slept worse than he normally did that night.

The next morning Opal was gone. It took about an hour to find her, walking down one of the country roads, backpack full of clothes, books, and stuffed animals. She’d run away, intent on going to school on her own means. Blue had brought her back to him.

Later that night, Ronan had settled her on his chest and stroked her hair until her frustrated sobs had faded.

“Do you remember me talking about your Grandpa?” he’d asked softly.

“The one in the photo downstairs?”

“That’s right.”

“Yeah, he was a superhero too, right?”

“Mmhm.” Ronan let his head fall back to the wall behind him with a thunk. “When I was pretty young, someone found his home. Your grandma was inside, but my brothers and I were all away hanging out with our friends. A bad guy found my dad outside. He— he hurt him pretty badly. Hurt your grandma too. She lived but my dad. . .my dad didn’t.”

Opal curled tighter into him and wrapped her thin arms around his neck. “Is that why Grandma doesn’t remember things sometimes?”

“Yeah.” he’d said shakily. “And that’s why I’m always scared something is going to happen to you, sweetheart. I’m just trying to protect you. But if you really, _really_ want to go to school, I’ll talk to Uncle Gansey and see what we can do, okay?”

Opal started going to school in the fifth grade. The first few days, Ronan stayed at the office and snapped at everyone that breathed too close to him, but after a while they developed a routine. 

Now, at 4:30 PM, he was waiting for her to be dropped off by the family she carpooled with. 

Ronan rolled his head to look at Chainsaw. “Is it pathetic that my daughter is my main source of entertainment in life or is that normal parent shit?”

Chainsaw chattered at him.

“Thanks.”

Outside, he could hear laughter. Opal’s high pitched cackle and a softer, lower chuckle. 

“Dad!” Opal cried as she stepped inside. “I brought Uncle Noah with me!”

Ronan barely lifted the upper part of his body and made grabby hands in the direction of her voice. Opal vaulted herself over the back of the couch and landed soundly on his stomach.

“ _Oof,_ ” he wheezed. “Damn kid, why are you so pointy?”

“You shouldn’t comment on a girl’s body, Dad.”

“Right, my bad.”

Noah hovered over them with a single raised eyebrow. “Do I get cuddles?”

Ronan squinted at him. “Fuck, do you need cuddles?”

“We should get you your own swear jar.”

“Shut it, streetrat, I’d go broke within a week.”

Noah snickered and shook his head. “Nah, I’m not that bad today. I’ll hold your hand though.”

“Sure dude, get that ass over here.” He walked around the side of the couch and sat gently next to Ronan’s head. His form solidified just a little more as they linked their fingers together. 

“Thanks.”

Ronan shrugged. With Noah’s ability being phasing through matter, he often felt disconnected from the material world. Some people looked down on him as clingy and needy, but the Greywaren team understood that his need for physical touch steamed from his fear that he would one day phase through something and never solidify again. Even Parrish had picked up on that, without even needing to ask. 

Once again, Ronan found himself marvelling at how Parrish had melded in so quickly with their group. His last checkup on Ronan, Cheng had driven them. Apparently, they went out for coffee. Ronan didn’t even know Cheng liked coffee. He knew Parrish liked coffee. Coffee with milk, honey, and a little bit of cinnamon. He’s not quite sure _when_ he picked up that information. 

“Are you thinking about Adam?” Noah asked.

“What? No.”

“Oooh, your work crush?”

“Opal.” he hissed. “He’s not my work crush. Don’t say things like that.”

She stared at him over the edge of her phone. Her eyes widened, immetaing innocence. “But you like him, don’t you? You liiiiiike him.”

Noah laughed at her and they high fived over the top of his head. 

“No, I don’t liiiiiike him. He’s just a. . . friend.” he finished lamely. 

Noah stared at him. “You’re not a very good liar.”

“Some of us practice good fucking Cathlic morals, Czerny.”

“I was going to say it’s because we’ve been friends for so long, but sure.”

Opal snorted at that. 

“Go do your homework you little shit.”

“But what if I wanna do my homework here?”  
“You just wanna listen to us gossip, go.”

She pouted, but picked up her bag and took it upstairs. Ronan waited until he heard her door shut before sitting up and facing his friend. 

“Am I that fucking obvious?”

Noah just stared at him before bursting into laughter. “You think you’re hiding it?!”

He groaned and buried his face in his hands. “This is a problem. A goddamn colossal problem.”

Noah shrugged. “Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“The world works in mysterious ways.” he sang, a shit-eating grin on his face.

* * *

Adam didn’t like going to work without Lynch there.

Sure, the pros were numerous. No one to bitch about how his back hurts and then turn around and ignore his advice, no one to recklessly jump in front of a car and shatter his ribs, _again._ There was no one to huff moodily around just because his daughter was having a sleepover and didn’t want to hang out with him. And there was no fucking crow flitting around Dr. Parrish’s medical equipment.

But there was also no one to bicker with. No one to put bunny ears behind Gansey’s head during debriefings. No one to make eye contact with whenever Henry made a reference to a popular movie and have it sail right over other people’s heads. No one to whisper to when Gansey and Blue disappear for half an hour and come back with their shirts buttoned up high.

He was running out of reasons to go visit him too. He was at war with himself. He didn’t need to see him for medical reasons until he returned to work, but they weren’t close enough to just _hang out_. And he wasn’t sure why he wanted to go so badly. Is it because they’re friends? Is Adam indulging the attraction Lynch feels towards him? Is he attracted to him, himself? Or is he fabricating feelings he doesn’t have simply because Lynch mostly likely has them? 

There were a lot of questions and so, so few answers. He resented, a bit, the amount of space Ronan Lynch took up in his head. He had other things to think about, to worry about. The last thing he needed was to stress over his coworker’s puppy dog crush. Yet here he was, stressing out about his coworker’s puppy dog crush and wondering if asking to see Machine Gun was a valid excuse to visit. 

It was a rare free day. Adam had shuttled himself far away from civilization and found some woods. He let himself be guided by the plants into the depths. A tree had collected him into its branches, so he stayed there, huddled amongst the leaves. He was working on a little side project for Henry. It was the merging of machine and man for a former burn victim with the ability to improve their muscle performance. Apparently, with Blue’s enhancing power, they could run right into a brick wall and shatter it on impact. Now, without their legs, they were extremely limited in motion. If Henry and Dr. Parrish could find a way to successfully merge full range of motion machinery with muscle and nerves, they could revolutionize the medical world. 

Adam’s phone rang suddenly with an incoming call. If he’d not been buckled in by wood, he probably would have fallen.

“Hey, Blue.”

“Adam! Wonderful, you picked up. Where are you?”

He paused and looked around. “Uh. . . out of town?”

“Out of town? How far out?”

“Kinda far. Feel like I’m in the middle of nowhere.”

“Ugh, that’s not gonna fly.” There was commotion on the other end. “Hold on, I’m putting you on speaker, I’ve got the boys here.”

“The boys?”

“I assume that would be us.” came Gansey’s voice. “Henry and I are here.”

“Oh. Hi.”

“Adam!” Henry said. “We need to go shopping.”

“Are we missing something in the lab?”

“What? No, you workaholic. _Shopping_.”

“That’s— that’s really not clearing it up for me.”

“Ah, Adam, we host an annual fundraising masquerade and Blue and Henry here want you to join us on the hunt for formal wear and masks.”

“Don’t play it off like it was our idea, babe, you’re the one that asked if we could invite him.”

Gansey sputtered on the other end. 

There we rustling and then Blue’s voice. “Don’t mind him, he’s got a man-crush on you. Anyway, we should come with us, we’ll set you up with something nice.”

“We can make you look extra yummy for a special boy!” Henry called in the background.

“I’m gonna ignore that.” Adam said dryly. 

“If that’s easier for you.” Blue said. 

He sighed. “I’ll meet you guys. Send me the address.” He assumed there was no real way to get out of this endeavor. He hung up and tapped the branches around him. They lowered him softly to the ground. 

“Sorry, guys. I gotta go.” The leaves all around him drooped. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He reached out and gently pressed a hand to the trunk of the tree he was just in. “I love you, too.” he whispered.

The plants around him became vibrant and filled with an unusual amount of color for November. _Beloved by plants._ Adam thought. It was a bittersweet thought.

It didn’t take him long to meet them at a small strip mall. Blue ushered them all into a small boutique where she promptly began to pick out the most obnoxious items she could find.

“Has she always been like this?” Gansey asked him.

Adam shrugged. “She usually raided thrift stores and used the clothes to make new clothes.”

Gansey turned his eyes back to his wife. “That’s precisely [what she’s going to do](https://www.etsy.com/listing/652564589/halloween-costume-womanombre-black?ref=shop_home_feat_3) with those. It drives my mother nuts.”

Blue came back to them, arms heavy with full bags of puffy skirts and bright leggings. “Let’s go, losers.”

Henry made a beeline for a [maroon tux with gold details](https://www.mensusa.com/products.aspx?id=46697) the second they were in the store. “I need something that says ‘single man available to take home, but only if you have really good taste in wine and are willing to put up with the fact that I’m an incurable cuddler after sex’.” Gansey had choked on his own spit, Blue had nodded sagely, and Adam had just started at the tuxedo. He wasn’t sure how a suit was supposed to say something like that. He supposed it would be in the way Henry wore it. 

Gansey bought himself a [tie the shade of burnt orange patterned with red dots](https://thepuertoricansocialclub.tumblr.com/post/30915738840/rubinacci-details). “Blue says I’m not allowed to wear colored suits anymore, but I still get to pick my ties out.”

“Marriage is about compromise.” was Blue’s only comment.

They all seemed far more interested in stuffing Adam into something far out of his price range. Blue wanted him in charcoal, Henry insisted that it clashed with his typical look and wanted him in something sandy. Gansey wisely stayed out of their way, but made little comments here and there. 

In the end, they settled on a [three piece green suit](https://www.amazon.com/Green-Pieces-Suits-Wedding-Tuxedos/dp/B075P39T1C) that was a modest enough price. 

“Two weeks, Adam Parrish.” Blue said, finger in front of his face. “I expect to see you there, all dolls up. Don’t make me bring Henry to your house to do your hair.” Henry perked up at this. 

“Will you be needing a mask?” Gansey asked.

Adam shook his head. “I’ll get one on my own, thanks.” 

“Ronan’s wearing [purple](http://alexandrechicago.com/Pages/Spring-Summer_2012/Suits/summer_spring_2012.html).” Henry said. 

“Okay?”

“Just thought you’d like to know.” His eyes were cryptic with an understanding that Adam hadn’t yet reached. He didn’t like that look.

“What’s Noah wearing?” he fired back.

Henry tried to mask his blush with a breezy air. “Oh you know. Something [paste](https://perfecttux.com/pink-black-and-silver-floral-tuxedo-jacket-slim-fit)l.”

“Hmm. Wouldn’t want it to clash with yours, would we?”

Henry narrowed his eyes. “You are a dangerous man, Parrish.”

Adam smiled. “Maybe I am.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this chapter lighter? Idk. Leave a comment I love responding to them! I'm @monstersanonymous on Tumblr too, if you wanna follow me or drop an ask!  
> Sneak Peak: (if you saw the sneak peak I posted when this originally went up no you didn't <3) (in my defense ch. 8 has been cut in half to become ch 8 AND 9)
> 
> Adam was having a hard time breathing.


	8. Chocolate Covered Strawberries and Ram Horns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not late with this chapter. YOU'RE late with this chapter. haha. Anyway. I'm not going to upload next Sunday, probably, I'm working on an AFTG thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Opal has a sketch book full of ballgowns. She's a very good artist. Also: Henry introduced Noah to Phantom of the Opera and they're obsessed together.

This was it. Ronan was going to die. He was going to suffocate and die choking on shrimp and sparkling apple juice.

“Opal, call me if you need anything. I’ll keep my phone on me.”

He couldn’t see his daughter nestled between the couch cushions, but the character in the video game on the TV moved forward steadily. “Uh huh.”

“ _ Anything _ . Okay?”

“I’m not gonna make up an emergency just to get you out of a social gathering, Dad.”

“C’mon, you don’t wanna hang out with your old man on a Friday night?”  
Opal’s little blond head poked up over the back of the couch and she shot him a dark glare. “If I’m too young to go, you’re going for me.” she snapped.

Ronan sighed. Opal has wanted to go to the fucking masquerade since she was old enough to know what a ball was. She used to be content to dress up and be dropped off at Blue’s house, but Blue started to go to the damn thing with Gansye after the assholes got hitched. Now she spent the night alone, which Ronan always felt guilty about, while he went out and tried not to punch anyone for the entire night. He rarely succeeds.

“How do I look, kid?”

Opal barely spared him a glance. “That’s the same thing you wore last year.”

“And I’ll wear it again next year.”

“No!” Opal wrinkled her nose. “I get to go next year, we gotta match and purple is not my color.”

“You look beautiful in anything.”

“Liar.”

“Streetrat.”

“Musty old man.”

“I’m not that old.”

“You’re like, fifty.”

“I’m not fifty.”

“Halfway to the gra-ave!” she sang.

Ronan grabbed her and wrestled her under his arms so he could rumple her hair. “I’m not. That. Old!”

“Yield! Yield!” Opal flopped back onto the couch with a huff. “You’re pretty strong for a geezer.”

He made a mock threatening step towards her and she squealed and shot off to her room, yelling: “Bye, I love you, kiss Adam for me!” as she went.

Ronan tried desperately to tamp down his blush as he fiddled with his collar in the mirror. It was bad enough that Noah knew about his attraction to Parrish, but having his own daughter clock it? That shit sucked. She was a ruthless tease, and an unfortunately good wingman, alwasy making it seem like there were somehow no place for the two men to sit other then really, really fucking close ot each other. Opal was also a horrific winker, screwing up half of her face in an attempt to send some sort of sly message. The first time she’d done it in Parrish’s presence, he’d asked if she needed glasses.

She caught onto him the day after she got sick, cornering her poor father who was slaving over a steak on the stove. Apparently, she and Parrish texted. Like regular fucking friends. And she had the gall to know the signals her father was giving off to put two and two together. Sometimes, Ronan wished that he didn't have a smart and talented child.

The ball was a fundraiser. It was something his father’d started years ago, making it a masked ball half to poke fun at the idea that they were a superhero company, half to help hide the identities of those that didn’t want to be found. Some help it did for him and his family, but people liked the tradition so Gansey kept it when he took over the company. Ronan, himself, fucking hated the ball. First of all, it was packed full of everyone that worked for Cabeswater, which was a shit ton of people. They were supposed to  _ mingle  _ and  _ introduce themselves to people in other departments. _ Ronan didn’t mingle, on principle. Instead, he stared longingly at the champagne fountains while he snacked on chocolate covered strawberries as angrily as he could. 

Second, Ronan was, on paper, part of the Greywaren strategy and research department. That meant that he could openly talk about his own battles. That also meant that he had to pretend he couldn’t fucking fight. Fortunately, this gave him another reason to avoid the asshats that tried to suck up to him because of his friendship with Gansey. He didn’t want to talk to them, and he could use the secrecy of the Greywaren name to do as much.

They hold the ball in the city gardens. It’s a big ass field surrounded by smaller flower gardens and little reflection pools that look like invitations for shit stained toddlers. The whole thing is enclosed by greenhouse styled gates, so no villains were going to have an easy time breaking into the one event where all the heroes were simultaneously gathered. That would also be a stupid move, because all the superheroes are fucking gathered. Nevertheless, Cheng stations little Watcher Bees on the golden bars surrounding the party, just to be careful.

Ronan thinks they’re creepy as fuck.

Cheng is very proud of that.

The little shit.

Ronan shouldered his way through faceless people in nonsense masks. He headed for the thickest circle of people, because that’s where Gansey would be. After he tried to skip out on the whole thing years ago, Gansey always made sure that Ronan comes and finds him.

“I want eyes on your face the second you get here.” he had said.

“If we ditched the party you could have eyes on a lot more than my face.” Ronan had replied. Gansey responded to that with only a disappointed stare. Blue had thought it was funny. Blue was his favorite person for the rest of that particular night. 

Gansey was, in fact, in the midst of a hurricane of people. He was in a light grey striped suit with a burnt orange tie. His [mask](https://www.amazon.com/fumak-Masquerade-Venetian-Carnival-Costume/dp/B07YNL4PZB) was a simple one, metallic of the same orange as his tie, but the color was artfully chipped to show grey underneath. It was a significant tamer ensemble than the previous year, which had involved mint green and an insulting amount of bubble gum pink.

“Dick!” Ronan yelled, tugging a single hand out of his pocket and raising it. Gansey’s attention snapped over and he grinned.

“Ronan! You’re here! Good, good.” His face dropped from the smile to something like concern. “Is that the same thing you wore last year?”

Ronan walked away, in search of chocolate covered strawberries. He found Blue by the table, dressed to match her husband with a grey top and an orange and black tutu looking thing that went down to her ankles. Her [mask](https://www.etsy.com/listing/189674122/bright-orange-and-black-lace-masquerade?ref=shop_home_active_14) looked like she’d tripped and fallen into a bunch of orange poppyseed flowers.

“Lynch! Is it strawberry time?”

He nodded. “You’re early Maggot.”

She struggled. “They got to talking about the financial structure of mobilizing Cabeswater across the country. Potentially overseas. I don’t do finances. I’ll go back when they can find something interesting to talk about, like funding our fucking orphange program.”

“Bigwigs still dragging their feet on that?”

“Yep. Heroes get to help the people in automatic need, but apparently kids in shit situations are those.” Blue angrily chomped on a strawberry. “Assholes.”

Ronan nodded. “Assholes.”

She turned to him and eyes him up and down. “Huh. Henry was right. You  _ are _ wearing the same thing as last year.”

“Something wrong with that?”

“No, just wanted to make sure we told Adam the right information.”

Ronan tried to subtly not choke on his strawberry. “Parrish?!”

Blue smiled, evil and cunning. “He looks great. Went shopping with us, you know, while Noah was at your places.”

“That little shitstain.” His fists clenched. “He was distracting me!”

“Looks like you got another distracting coming.” Blue patted his arm in pity. “Hey, Adam! Over here!” She called over his shoulder.

Ronan turned and. . .

Nearly died. 

Adam motherfucking Parrish was too beautiful to be real. Dark green three piece, hair pushed back, not combed,  _ pushed, _ and the fucker didn’t even have the decency to wear his jacket. No, he had it folded over his forearm like a fucking model. It didn’t matter if he had a mask, Ronna would recognize him from a mile away. His [mask](https://mask4party.com/products/women-masquerade-mask-forest-curly-horn-dark-olive-green) was the same green as his suit, with moss and small flowers pressed on. And it had horns. Big, curling ram horns arching out from the sides. 

Ronan doubted he was going to survive the night.

* * *

Adam felt more out of place than he had in awhile. He’d never gone to the ball before, it wasn’t necessary as was also held in a garden. He was enclosed with over 100 other people surrounded by plants. That was a recipe for disaster. But Dr. Parrish’s pride was too fragile to refuse the invitation from the rest of the Greywaren team, so here he was. Dressed up to the nines and ready to bolt at the drop of a pen. 

He found Henry and Noah first. They looked like they were about to ask each other to dance, but were both too scared to say anything. Henry had a surprisingly conservative albeit eclectic [mask](https://www.purecostumes.com/FM83742/steampunk-colombina-mask.html). It was dark gold and very steampunk. Paired with the dramatics of the rest of the outfit, it suited him well. Noah had a simple silver Phantom of the Opera [mask](https://www.partycity.com/silver-phantom-mask-482084.html?extcmp=pla%7CGoogle). Adam got the pun.

“Hey.” he said smoothly, sliding up to them. 

“Adam!”

“Adam, my man! So glad you graced us with your presence.” Henry handed him a flute of champagne. Adam did not drink it.

Noah eyed his mask. “You have horns.”

He fought the urge to touch them. “Is the mask too dramatic?”

“No, no, no!” Henry said. “It’s perfect. Fits with Ronan’s little theme.”

“Ronan’s. . . theme?”

Noah nodded. “He’s wearing the same thing as last year.”

“I knew he would, but it’s still sad to see. You’d think a trust fund baby sitting on the cash that being a superhero gets him would buy himself more than three suits, but alas. The man is hopeless.” 

Adam dragged out a laugh. 

“I saw him say hi to Gansey earlier.” Noah said. “He’s probably with the strawberries now.”

“Did he say hi or did he yell so that he got people’s attention?”

Henry smirked. “You know him well. He yelled ‘Dick’ loud enough for the stars to hear and then trudged off to brood at the strawberry table.”

Adam laughed for real at that. “What’s with the strawberries?’

“He doesn’t drink. Or mingle.” Noah said softly. “So he eats the chocolate covered strawberries and either gossips with Blue or broods until he gets the green light to head back home.” 

“You should go save him, Adam.” Henry added.

“Yeah, go be a hero to our hero.” Noah playfully shoved him.

Adam raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I’ll go make nice with Mr. Emo. But promise me something.” He held a finger in front of both of their faces. “Dance. For crying out loud, you dance  _ around _ each other often enough, a waltz should be a piece of cake.”

He left before either of them could respond. It took about two minutes of him wandering aimlessly through the ticket of people before he heard someone call out to him.

“Hey, Adam! Over here!” It was Blue, clad in bright orange and wisps of black. But Adam was not focused on Blue. No, there was a tall man in front of her with a shaved head and blue eyes that gleamed with the promise of danger. He was wearing a dark suit with a purple shirt underneath, and on top his nose sat a wire [mask](https://www.etsy.com/listing/655114341/masquerade-mask-black-purple-masquerade?gpla=1&gao=1&) studded with purple rhinestones. It was in the shape of a fox, or maybe a cat, and fit his face perfectly. Adam was having a hard time breathing.

“Hey, Blue.” he said. “You clean up nice, Lynch.” 

Lynch bared his teeth. “Why the goat head, Parrish?”

Adam shrugged. “Was on sale. Matched the suit.” 

“Practical Parrish.”

“That’s me.”

Blue cleared her throat. “Anyway, I’m going to go find my husband and make sure that he doesn’t buy an entire island just to grow mint again.” And then she scampered off.

Adam turned to Lynch. “Again?”   


He shrugged. “He was drunk.” Adam raised an eyebrow but let the topic drop.

“Don’t think I’ve been to a party this big. Ever.”

Lynch wrinkled his nose. 

“I take it you’re not a fan?”

“Fucking,” he waved his hand around, gesturing to the crowd. “People.” Adam understood the sentiment.

“I always hated parties. My frat threw them a lot and I often spent the night at a friend’s and came back to a trashed house with no more pancake mix. Truly devastating.” he said.

Lynch jolted like he’d been shocked and whipped around to face him fully. “Parrish. Please do not tell me you were a frat boy.”

Adam smiled grimly. “Three years. Theta Kappa Chi.”

“Dude.” His shoulders shook with peals of laughter. “What the  _ fuck. _ I don’t believe you!”

“I’m not lying! Three years! I’ve attended over twenty toga parties!”

Lynch’s laughter increased and he doubled over, clutching the table. 

“We had a secret knock and hand signals and a special handshake and everything.”

He gasped, trying to win air back between laughs. “You did not!”   


“No, that was a lie. We did have secret signals, though. Hot chick in the living room. Don’t go in that room, Chad’s hooking up and you don’t want to be scarred for life. Do go in that room, Brain’s hooking up and is going to fall in love with her, propose, then get his heart broken all within an hour and we need to stop him. We’re out of beer, go buy more. You know, normal stuff.”

“I can’t imagine you as a frat boy. Frat Boy Adam.” Lynch snorted and Adam willed away the tightness in his throat upon hearing his first name. “Why were you of all people in a goddamn fraternity?”

He shrugged. “Connections. It was a practical move.”

Lynch eyed him. “Practical fucking Parrish.” 

That time it felt a little more like an insult. “Why haven’t you left yet?”

Lynch’s face contorted into a mocking sneer. “Eager to get rid of me?”

“No. You just seem to really hate this crowd. You showed up, why not go home?”

He paused. “I have to stay until eleven. At the earliest.”

“You got two more hours then.”

Lynch picked up a strawberry. “Lucky me.”

“Hey.” Adam felt a plan prick the corners of his mind. “Let’s ditch.”

“What?”   


“You don’t want to be here, I don’t want to be here. There are plenty of surroundings where we don’t have to go far but don’t have to be near the crowd. Plus, if I’m with you, you’re technically supervised.”

Lynch studied him, looking for a lie, an ulterior motive. “Okay, Parrish.” he grinned, sharp and mischievous. “Let’s go fucking exploring.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and now you must wait. How will the little rendezvous go next chapter, I wonder? Hmmmm  
> Sneak Peak:  
> It was a mistake. That was the first thought that flooded his mind. He shouldn't have done that. He needed to go, to run.


	9. Peonies and the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. I told y'all this was slowburn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Peonies symbolize romance, good fortune, and bashfulness.  
> Adam started studying Latin to help with his medical career when he was a junior in high school.

“No, I swear, she used to just _gnaw_ the shit out of the furniture!”

“Like a goat?”

“Like a fucking goat!” Ronan exclaimed, waving his hands about. Parrish doubled over with laughter. Ronan grinned, wild and giddy. He felt full of energy, like he could run miles and then still stop and put a lamppost out of the concrete. Sneaking out of a party to walk in the fucking flower gardens is not his typical flavor of delinquency, but it still felt bold, brash, and daring. Maybe it was Parrish. Mr. Goody Two Shoes, who’d looked at ease and comfortable the second they left the crowd. God, Ronan was staring at him. He’d been staring for a while. He’s not sure he ever stopped.

Parrish’s mask was still on and it only added to the ethereal nature of the man. The moon and distant fairy lights highlighted his cheek bones and the soft bends in his hair. 

“I knew teething children could be awful, but she was like what, five?”

“I think children in general are just designated to be little shits. Pretty sure I got the best of the bunch, though.”

Parrish tilted his head at him, a curious gesture. “You think really highly of her.” Ronan could tell if it was a statement or a question.

“Usually people say things like ‘of course you’d say that she’s your daughter’.” he responded.

Parrish went quiet. “Parent’s don’t always have an obligation to love their children.”

Ronan looked up at the moon. “I guess they don’t.” He kicked the grass. “‘S fuckin’ bullshit, that. They’re just kids, you know? Kids don’t have sin yet, or whatever. They’re innocent.”

More silence.

“The children will inherit the earth.” came the soft reply.

“Something like that.” 

“I don’t think my parents loved me.” Ronan’s head spun for a moment not knowing how to process that. Parrish kept walking and just gazed at the moon. “They might have but they sure had a fucked up way of showing it.”

And Ronan. . . well he was pretty sure he knew what that meant. Fury filled his body. He opened his mouth to say something, but Parrish anticipated it and shot him a look.

“Don’t.” he snapped. “I don’t want your pity.”

Fingernails dug into his palms. “How about anger?”

“He’s dead, Ronan. Anger’s not going to do anything.”

“Is he the reason I can’t walk on your left side?”

Parrish’s steps stuttered. “My— you noticed?”

Rona shrugged. He noticed a lot about Parrish, he thought. 

Parrish stared at him. “Yeah. He’s why.” 

Ronan inhaled and let the anger expand in his bones. He exhaled and imagined it lifting off of them like snow blowing off of a window pane. He rolled his shoulders back. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay.”

The flower bushes were above their heads, a considerable feat for men their height. They were pale pink, big ass, frilly looking things, with heads so heavy they drooped in the moonlight. 

“Joker peonies.” said Parrish.

“Roses.” said Ronan.

“. . . no. Like, not at all.” 

Ronan flicked the head of one, making it bob. “Round. Pink. Rose.”

Parrish snorted. “Not even the same family of plant. I thought you were a farmer.”

“Animals, Doc, I know jack shit about local greenery.”

The man hummed. 

And then he tripped over a root.

To Ronan’s credit, the noise he made when he nearly went head first into a bush was _hilarious_ so it really wasn’t his fault that he didn’t catch Parrish in time. He was shaking with laughter as he helped him up. Parrish was glaring at him, but it wasn’t very effective with how hard he was laughing too.

Suddenly two things were happening. Externally, he was laughing with Parrish all _holy shit did you fucking shriek? Dude how did you not see that root?_ and teasing light hearted jokes,

Internally, however, was all, _Adam Parrish is holding my hand Adam Parrish is holding my hand Adam Parrish is_ still _holding my hand._

He didn’t know if he was blushing or not. After a moment their peals of laughter died down. Ronan was still holding his hand. It was, in fact, very nice to hold. He stared into his eyes beyond the mask. In the shadows, it almost looked like there was something shifting beneath them. He was beautiful.

And he was staring back.

Ronan felt himself lean forward, muscles so tense they felt like they were creaking. He was breathing too quickly or maybe he wasn’t breathing at all. Was Parrish also leaning in? He wasn’t sure. God, he wanted to kiss him. He wanted, he wanted, and he wanted so much it was consuming him, eating away at the marrow in his bones, the hollows in his heart.

A squawk and a rustle startled them both. Ronan nearly jumped fifty feet in the air and Parrish snatched his hand away and swiveled his body in the direction of the noise. 

A crow popped out of the bushes and hopped over to the middle of the path, pecking at the grass. It hopped further, pecking at a new spot. 

Parrish suddenly gasped and grabbed his shoulder. “Ronan.” he breathed.

_Lord have mercy he called me Ronan._

“Ronan, the bird.”

“What about it?” he forced out.

Parrish pointed his finger insistently at the bird. “Hop hop!” he said excitedly. “Opal! Hop hop!”

Ronan’s mind flashed back to the day Parrish came over and took care of Opal, of him taking none of her shit, of him taking her attitude in stride.

“Adam.” His voice cracked.

He looked at him, no doubt startled by his tone.

Rona kissed him. 

In hindsight, he’s actually pretty proud of how smooth he was considering he was nervous at hell and it was 100% impulse. He used Parrish’s wrist to tug him into him, cradling his jawline with his over hand to bring their mouths together. There was no harsh bumping of teeth, no noses smashing together. It was something to be damn proud of.

However, in the moment, Ronan’s mind was a consistent stream of _what the fuck did I just do_. Or it was for a moment.

Adam’s free hand reached up and tangled itself in the softness of his shirt. Panic flooded his mind, concerned that he was going to push Ronan off. Instead, he tugged him closer, pressed their lips tighter together, and made a soft noise in the back of his throat that sounded something like relief. Something like want, like _need._

Ronan let his hand slip around to cup the back of Adam’s head, weaving his fingers into the soft hair. Adam’s own hands also moved, one sliding from his place tangled in his shirt to the junction of his neck and shoulder, the other twisting out of Ronan’s grip and finding its spot right about his hip bone. Ronan used his newly free arm to wrap around Adam’s back. 

And they were kissing. They were _kissing._ Soft, but insistent, gentle but gliding, warm breath and soft lips combining to make Ronan’s lungs tighten. 

Eventually, the need to look Adam in the eyes overcame the need to kiss him more and he pulled away. Ronan rested his forehead against Adam’s, the horned mask making it a little awkward. 

Ronan watched as Adam puffed air through his still parted lips and slowly opened his eyes. 

He wanted to kiss him again. And maybe forever.

* * *

“Okay.” Lynch said.

Adam stared at him. Okay. _Okay_. Who the fuck says okay after someone confessess that their father wailed on them when they were children and that’s why they’re deaf in one ear. When Adam had said he didn’t want his pity or anger, he expected more of a fight. More pushback.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, okay.” And it struck Adam. Lynch wasn’t okay with it, with what happened. He was okay with Adam’s boundaries. That Adam didn’t want revenge or retaliation. Lynch was undoubtedly still angry, but he respected Adam’s decisions. The thought made Adam’s chest hurt, just a little.

“Okay.” he breathed. 

They walked a little while longer. Adam was pretty sure they were just making a large square around the party itself. He looked over at Lynch and found he was staring at the wall of flowers surrounding them. 

“Joker peonies.” he said.

Lynch flicked his eyes between him and the flowers. “Roses.” he said.

 _What the—_ “No.” _It's an entirely different breed of flower_. “Like, not at all.”

Lynch flicked a head of one of the flowers and it bobbed pitifully. “Round. Pink. Rose.” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Not even the family of plant.” Adam felt amusement wash over him. “I thought you were a farmer.”

“Animals, Doc, I know jack shit about local greenery.” 

That made sense. The Barns were small, with untamed fields save for a pasture for the cows and sheep. 

The silence was. . . awkward. But no fault of their own, but after talking nonstop about everything from Adam’s long gone frat days, to a child’s antics, to former physical abuse, silence felt empty. Adam wasn’t used to silence feeling empty with Lynch. He wanted something to break the silence, something to laugh at. 

He felt a familiar feeling, a friend presence at the back of his mind.

 _Wait, don’t—_ he tried to say, but it was too late. 

He tripped over a root, newly erupted from the soft grass that formed the garden paths. An embarrassing yelp left his lips and he tried to not careen into the rose bushes. He mentally cursed the plants, doing his best to send out ‘bad dog. Very bad dog’ vibes. Fortunately, Lynch thought this whole ordeal was hilarious and had himself quite the laugh before extending a hand to help him up. 

Adam tried to glare at him, but the laughter was infectious and he ended up succumbing to it himself. 

Lynch doesn’t laugh often. He snickers, cackles, and grins sharply. He rarely doubles over with tears in his eyes and gasps for air. He was _hollering_ with joy. And Adam couldn’t help but reflect it. They were half leaning one each other, knees weak, laughter easing into chuckles. Lynch is still holding his hand. Adam is thinking very hard about not thinking about it. Adam pulled back a little and realized Lynch was staring at him.

The moon was behind Adam, meaning that the purple gems in Lynch’s mask were fully exposed, glittering in the soft light. Adam doesn’t think he’d ever taken the time to appreciate Lynch’s bone structure. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let the chance slip by. He was thinking about what Lynch’s cheekbones would feel like under his thumbs when he realized the man was learning forward. It was a gentle movement, slow, uncertain, potentially unconscious.

Adam thought he might be leaning in too.

All of the sudden, he heard a soft squawk and a rustle. Whatever force was pulling the two together shattered as Lynch jolted and Adam whipped and around to find the source of the noise.

A crow hopped out of the bushes and bounced over to a spot in the grass, looking for food. A memory pricked Adam’s mind. 

_“What’s your favorite animal, Opal?”_

_“ Corvus mellori. ” Adam startled at the latin name. He looked up and made eye contact with Lynch, who simply smirked proudly._

_“That’s a very specific type. Why not a common raven?”_

_Opal’s eyes rolled towards him, not having expected him to know the latin name for the little raven. “Hop hop.” was all she said._

Adam gasped and reached out to grab the man next to him. “Ronan. Ronan, the bird.”

“What about it?”

“Hop hop!” he cried, delighted to figure out what exactly Opal had meant that day. “Opal! Hop hop!” He feels a little stupid for not figuring it out earlier. It was so _simple_. Birds hopped when they were looking for food, and little crows tended to eat more bugs than common ones did, putting them on the ground more often. So, they hopped more often, which was an admittedly cute and weird sight. Adam felt triumphant, to have figured out the girl’s riddle.

“Adam,” a rough voice said next to him.

He startled. He didn’t think Lynch had ever called him by his first name before. It felt intimate. He didn’t know why it felt intimate. 

Lynch reached out and grabbed the wrist closest to him and tugged him forward. His other hand brushed against Adam’s jaw and he reflexively tilted his head up. 

_He’s going to kiss me,_ he thought. But that wasn’t quite right, because as soon as he thought it, Ronan was already kissing him. Soft lips added gentle pressure to his and Adam’s mind was torn, but his body pressed closer. He let his eyes slide shut and gave in to the sensations. He felt Ronan start to push away and reached out and hauled him back in by his shirt. 

_No_ . he tried to say. _Keep going_ . Instead, his throat made a noise between a whine and a moan. It didn’t matter much, the man seemed to get the message. Their hands were moving, adjusting to bring them closer together, to simultaneously soften and intensify the kiss. Adam felt dizzy. He felt like his brain was buzzing. He couldn’t form a coherent thought past _More_. He flicked his tongue out to swipe along Ronan’s bottom lip. The noise he made nearly overshadowed the fact that Adam could taste chocolate and strawberries still on his lips. Or maybe he imagined it. Reality and dreams seemed pretty close together at that moment. 

Ronan let out a puff of air and pulled back, head tilting forward to rest on Adam’s. Adam let his brain come back online and slowly opened his eyes. 

Bright blue looked back at him.

The color was like a cold knife of clarity. 

It was a mistake. That was the first thought that flooded his mind. He shouldn’t have done that. He needed to go, to run.

This was Ronan Lynch, the Greywaren. Adoptive father and superhero. A man that was honest to a fault, that raised cattle that he let his daughter name strange names and rescued baby birds from rafters. He was kind and an asshole and he’s just kissed Adam.

And Dr. Adam Parrish was a liar, a runaway, and a murderer.

He ripped himself away and ran.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh honey did you really think it would be that easy? that I would be that nice? This is only the beginning, we've barely gotten started!  
> Sneak Peak: Dr. Parrish barely had anytime to sort out his own feelings, much less time to manage a boyfriend.


	10. Yogurt and Interventions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, this is super late. I'm sorry, but this just took me a bit to bang out. I'll try to get back to normal schedule ASAP.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Blue hates blueberries for no reason other than her name is Blue and she's heard too many blueberry jokes in her life.  
> Also: Adam drives a Camry and Ronan dies a little inside whenever he sees it.

Ronan was not fucking avoiding Parrish. He wasn’t! He was simply existing and Parrish was. . . existing somewhere else. Anywhere else really, where Ronan wasn’t. And well, Ronan was raised to be a perfect fucking gentleman so he was respecting that. 

“Uh huh.” Blue said around a mouthful of yogurt. “I totally believe that.”

Ronan crossed his arms. He didn’t even know he  _ had _ yogurt in his fridge. “Suck my dick.”

“No thanks. I’m not into monastery rejects.”

“Funny.”

“Aren’t I?” Another spoonful of yogurt went down. “Lynch.”

“Sarg.”

Blue sighed. “Gansey’s worried about you.”

“Gansey’s always worried. It’s who he is.” he said stubbornly.

“Yeah, but he’s at ‘stage an intervention’ level.” 

Ronan watched a glop of yogurt land on the floor as she waved her spoon around. “You not the intervention?”

“No.” There was suddenly a spoon at the tip of his nose. “I’m the warning flare. Paul Revenue. Whatever. I’m here to tell you to  _ get your shit together _ before Gansey locks you and Parrish in a room together and swallows the key.”

He was going cross eyed looking at the spoon. “Is that a real option? Because I really want to know if Gansey can shit out an entire key on command.”

“ _ Ronan. _ ” He promptly decided that marrying Gansey was the worst decision Blue had ever made in her life. She had mastered her ‘Gansey-voice’ down to the damn breath.

Ronan looked out the window. Chainsaw was on a nearby branch. He looked back at Blue. Back out the window. Down at the rug. He grunted. “I got no fuckin’ clue what you want me to do.”

“You gonna apologize?”

He eyed her. “For what?”

“Don’t gimme that shit, Adam was my friend first, I know things. Are you planning on apologizing?”

“No.” he sniffed.

“Good. He’d kill you if you did.” He knew that. It’s part of the Parrish Charm. “Not that springing a kiss on someone without prompting is a good thing to do, but I think both parties were a bit at fault there, so I’ll leave it for now.”

Ronan didn’t respond to any of that. 

Blue chewed on her fingernails, a habit that she’d had for as long as he’d known her. It always made Gansey’s eyes go moony. He thought it was gross and passed her the empty yogurt cup. “How do you feel about Adam?”

“Figured that was public information by now.”

She raised an eyebrow. “No? We know you  _ feel  _ for Adam, you’re not exactly subtle, but I don’t know what it is. Gansey thinks you’re in love.”

“What do you think?”

Blue faced him fully, twisting her body on the couch, and looked at him with meaning. “I think that six months is an awful short time to fall in love.”

Ronan let his head tilt back until he was looking at the ceiling. “It sure fucking is.”

“Ah, Ronan.” She didn’t say it like other people said ‘Ronan’. People said ‘Ronan’ like they meant it to hurt. Like they meant ‘asshole’ or ‘jerk’. Sometimes they said ‘Ronan’ like ‘you need to apologize’ or ‘you’re in big trouble’. But right then. Blue said ‘Ronan’ like she meant to say ‘I’m sorry’.

“Yeah, well, there’s fuck all I can do about that now.”

“You could ask him out.” Ronan lifted his head and squinted at her. “It’s a suggestion! That’s what normal people do with people they like.” 

“He ran away, Blue. Ran. Away. Took off like he had the fucking wind pushing his ass from behind.”

“Did you think that maybe that was because he didn’t know you had feelings for him?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, no, he totally knew ahead of time, but did you think about  _ why _ he ran?” she insisted.

Ronan felt anger, ugly and thick, bubble up in his throat. “Did I think? Did I think?! Yeah, Blue, I fucking thought. All I could think about was the way he looked at me afterwards. He was scared. There was more fear in his eyes than I see in the day to day shit villains. He was afraid of me.” Air gushed out of him. 

Blue was silent for a bit. Her spoon tapped rhythmically against the side of her yogurt cup. “You know Adam and I dated?”

“High school, right?”

“Yeah.” Tap, tap, tap, went the spoon. “Couple of months.”

“Gloating, Sargent?”

“Shut up, I’m trying to help you.” She huffed and readjusted her legs. “Adam and I were, and are, better off as friends. That’s what I tell people, and I’m sure what he says as well, about the reason we broke up. That we were distant, that it was hard, forcing romance. And that was part of it, sure. All of that is true. I was a loner at my school, daughter of the weird psychics with handmade clothing from the thrift store and an uncanny ability to take insults against every person I meet.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“Hush, I’m monologuing.”

“Oh well, fucking pardon me, miss please continue.”

She pointed her spoon threateningly at him. “Adam was a loner too. But in a different way. He was  _ Adam Parrish.  _ There was no doubt he was Harvard bound, the smartest kid in school, could probably get into a fancy private school in DC like the one you and Gansey went to if he tried. He was nice, he’s always  _ nice. _ He’s a southern gentleman with just enough asshole in him to make him interesting. But people didn’t want to be friends with Adam Parrish. They always wanted something else. His homework, his looks, a discount at the car shop, but nothing else.”

Ronan tapped her legs with a boot. “Let me guess. You wanted to be different.”

“I thought I could be different. If I befriended him, got to know who he was, I could see past all that and find something else. A quirk, a little thing to make him endearing. The hardest part was realizing that there are very few real secrets with Adam. The truth is there, in the open, it just takes the right set of eyes to see that. And I couldn’t.”  
“What the fuck are you trying to tell me?” he snapped, impatient. 

The spoon thunked against his head. “What I’m trying to say, you  _ dick _ , is that he’s not that complicated. Sure, he has layers, and shit to work and figure out. He’s got his secrets. His own truths to tell, but I’ll bet good money if you sat down and thought, really thought, about everything, you’d be able to ballpark it.” She tapped mismatch colored nails against the arm of the couch. “Especially you.”

And Ronan. . . Ronan wished he knew what the everloving fuck that meant.

Adam had been cornered. Trapped, really. He’d been lured to Gansey’s office with the promise of new research to look at. There he’d been ambushed. Henry had slammed the door upon his arrival and Noah had phased effortlessly through the wall, ensuring that he had no escape. Gansey had simply looked up from his computer and smiled over his glasses.

“Adam! Lovely of you to join us, please sit.”

Adam kind of wanted to stand, just for the hell of it. Noah snuck up behind him and rested a cold hand on his shoulder. He tried not to jump out of his skin.

“Sit, Adam.” he said. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be here.” 

Adam sat.

“So,” Gansey started, shuffling papers into various folders. “You must know, Adam, that you are my friend. And, as friends, I am under an obligation to worry about you. To be, ah, concerned, for you, your wellbeing, your health, your. . . relationships with those around you.”

“How much did Blue tell you?” Adam said, already tired.

“Blue?” Henry said. “What does this have to do with Blue?”

“She’s your confidant, right?” Noah asked. “You go far back.”

_ Well, shit _ , thought Adam.

“Is there a secret that you trusted my wife with? Is it the reason you’ve been weird around Ronan? I mean, we could merely speculate and she let no hints drop that you’d said anything to her, brilliant secret keeper she is.”

“Gansey.”

“Yes, Cheng?”

“We’re here for Adam.”

“Oh.” he turned a furious shade of red. “That’s correct.”

Noah cleared his throat. “Is it the party?”

Adam sunk into his seat. “It. . . was a catalyst.”  
“Oh, ho, ho,” Henry’s eyes gleamed. “We noticed that two of you had snuck off, but we figured you were responsible enough of a chaperone, should we have been perhaps chaperoning the both of you? Placing a Bible between your bodies to leave room for the son of God?”

Adam grumbled.

“Pardon? We didn’t hear that, love.”

“It was just a kiss!” he snapped.

Noah, to his credit, didn’t even bother to act surprised. Adam had the uncanny feeling that Noah knew lots of things that no one had told him. Henry, however, staggered backwards and rested his hand on his heart. Gansey looked like he was trying to swallow too large of a bite of food, but he was still the first to speak.

“Well, ehm. That’s not  _ quite _ what we expected.” 

Adam crossed his arms. “What, you think we snuck off and fucked in the bushes?”

Henry choked with laughter. Even Noah looked like he was struggling to hold in a snicker. Gansey. . . looked tired.

“We were far more concerned that he dragged you out alone in the moonlight and confessed his love for you.”

Adam struggled to hold onto his irritability. “I see.”

Gansey shuffled some of the papers on his desk and placed them off to the side. “I’m not sure you do, Adam.”

“Don’t baby me.”

“Adam.” he said sternly. “You’re not blind. I know that. Ronan, bless his heart, is not exactly subtle. You  _ must _ be aware of some semblance of his feelings for you.”

“It’s just a physical pull. I’ll stay professional.”

“That’s not—” He pinched the skin under his glasses.

Noah rested a feather light hand on his shoulder. “Ronan doesn’t do ‘just physical’. If he just had a crush on you, none of us would know until you were long gone. Him being open about how he feels means a lot. It means he feels so strongly that he can’t hide it.”

“So why are you telling me this and not him?”

Henry raised an eyebrow. “Have you considered the possibility that he’s afraid of your reaction? That he’s waiting for you?”

Adam opened his mouth. Thought about the night of the dance. Closed it. “Fuck.” he said.

“Maybe not this early in the relationship.” said Gansey.

“Adam.” Noah looked him dead in the eyes. “Sometimes it’s okay to make reckless choices. To choose the path of risk.”

Henry grinned, wild and charming. “That’s the most fun path on board games anyway.”

“But—”

Gansey raised a hand and in that moment Adam thought he’d never looked more like a king. “We’re not trying to press you anything. I don’t know how you feel about Ronan. I’m not even asking you to feel about Ronan. He’s an asshole, it’s okay to not be attracted to him. I’m asking you to slow down and consider other people before you start running away from their feelings. If you’re going to reject him, fine. Do so. Don’t leave him dangling in uncertainty.”

Adam scowled. Just this morning he’d been weighing the pros and cons of leaving town. He felt known. Seven months with these people and they knew him. Dr. Parrish was supposed to be aloof, mysterious. Adam was supposed to be so complex that people gave up breaking down his walls before they ever got to see them. 

He wasn’t supposed to be so easily read. Easily predicted. Part of him still wanted to run. To push these people away and  _ go _ . Another part of him wanted to stay. To see just how well these people could get to know him. Befriend him. What knowledge would it take for them to abandon him? He cursed his inner scientist.

“He’s grocery shopping.” Noah said. He didn’t say who ‘he’ was. He didn’t need to. “He’ll be home soon, if you want to see him.”

Gansey eyed him. “Do you want to see him?”  
The chair scraped the wood of the floors. Adam tried to feel bad about it. “Is there actually any new research for me to look over?”

Henry shook his head. “Nothing interesting or urgent.”

“I’m taking the rest of the evening off.” He grabbed his bag and coat off of the back of the chair. 

“Where are you going?”

Adam didn’t respond. He didn’t think he needed to.

He hadn’t noticed he’d made a habit of visiting the Barns until he’d memorized the way there. The woods on his left, dark and deep. The fields on his right, yellow with fall and never ending. The bend in the road. The blind spot past the rose bushes. The faded street sign. It scared him, a bit, how much it felt like coming home. The plants here knew him, waited with baited breath for his return. 

Ronan filled his mind during the drive. He was everywhere, bleeding on the upholstery in his car, stuffing umbrella’s in his glove compartment because “Really, Parrish, you think a doctor would be a little more worried about getting a cold.” Ronan, kneeling on the side of the road, feeding a stray cat. Ronan, standing in the fields, watching Chainsaw rise on the updraft and circle in the evening sky. Ronan, ranting proudly about Opal’s A in English. The two of them, curled up on the couch, a strange but perfect family.

Adam skidded into the driveway. He nearly tripped up the wooden steps in his haste to get to the door. He took a deep breath to steady himself. He meant to come up with a script, with  _ something  _ to say to him on the way over. 

He rang the doorbell.

Behind him, he heard car wheels drag against concrete. He spun around something like hope, like joy, like fear bubbling in his throat.

A white mitsubishi pulled into the driveway. A man, tall, hollow, and pale stepped out and pulled off his sunglasses.

“Well, well, well.” Yellowed teeth bared in a mock smile. “Who are you?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not me starting a new arc in the middle of another. Any guess as to what this newcomer's role will be?


	11. Fear and Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW FOR VIOLENCE, BLOOD, AND SOME VERY RUDE COMMENTS  
> Realized I didn't leave y'all with a sneak peak last time. . . oops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: This whole chapter was actually supposed to happen much later. The plan was for Ronan and Adam to get together and then this to happen, but for future plot reasons I moved the whole thing up.

The thing about Ronan Niall Lynch was that he was lucky. Not lucky as in always winning the lottery, but lucky as in things happened to him that simply did not happen to the average person. He’s been pinned under bridges, shot in the stomach, fractured his spine, and somehow, through all of that, he’s still fucking fine. The media calls it “miracles”. Parrish calls it “science and a damn good medical degree”. Ronan thinks it’s luck. Luck that he met Parrish, luck that they met when they did. He doesn’t know if it’s good or bad yet.

It’s this luck that made sure Parrish was at his house the same time K broke out of jail.

“What’s the situation?” Blue said as she blew through the room.

“Dismantled alarms and security. He left the camera’s on, we think he wanted us to know he was here.” Henry replied, tapping away at his tablet. 

“Do we have a tracker on them?” Gansey asked.

“We’re working on it. RoboBee is scanning right now.”

“Scan faster. That’s family out there, I want them back now. Three search teams, too rescue, and get those that have worked with Adam and Opal before on standby for Med. I want an update in ten minutes.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ronan?”

Ronan looked up from his spot next to the couch. In his hands a piece of paper was crumpled up into a ball. “Gansey.” he said, voice shaking. “I’m going to kill him.”

Gansey simply put his hand atop Ronan’s shoulder’s. “We have to find them first.” He held out his hand for the paper. Ronan handed it over without protest. “Go take a minute. Walk through the house again, see if he took anything, if anything was dropped. And then take a team to escort you back to Cabeswater.”

“Gans—”

He held up a hand. “No, Ronan. Your daughter and your doctor were kidnapped twenty minutes ago. You’re taking the bodyguards.”

Ronan didn’t argue, just glared half heartedly and dragged himself up. He turned away before he could see Gansey unfurling the paper. He already knew what was on there. It’d be tapped to his front door, big red letters printed over a photo. It was sick, like after he had stuffed an unconscious Parrish in the truck with his daughter, K had stopped to snap a nice little candid and print it out on Ronan’s own fucking printer. The words said:

_ Missed ya <3 _

Ronan felt like throwing up. Maybe screaming. Definitely like punching the living daylights out of someone. He had nearly torn the door off of its fucking hinges, plowing inside and scaning the house.

“Opal?” he’d called. “Parrish?”

He bulldozed through the house, turning over cushions and blankets, praying that this was all just a fucked up prank. He’d come full circle when he’d heard Chainsaw squawking outside. Blood had been cooling in his driveway. Not much, but enough to hint at a scuffle. Ronan had swallowed his nausea, prayed that the blood was K’s, and dialed Gansey.

By the time he finished his report back at Cabeswater, Blue and the team were done sweeping his house.

“Blue.” he said. “Tell me.”

She shook her head. “He’s good. Disabled all alarms and alerts,  _ any _ security protocols, hours before he got there. Someone was managing them remotely so that if anyone else showed up they wouldn’t know something was up. He—” She took a deep breath. “He left one camera recording. Shows Adam pulling up to the house and him pulling up right after. There’s no audio and the angle is awkward, but they look like they talk for a bit before Adam starts to get back into his car. That’s when— he had a bat. Knocked Adam out, stuffed him in the car. Disappeared and came back with Opal and put her in. Took a photo. Disappeared into the house. Came back and drove off. We don’t know where they are. White Mitsubishi, stolen plates.”

Ronan ran a hand over his face. “Sloppy. He’s being sloppy.”

“Ronan, we need the psychics.”

He nodded, trying to push down his nausea. He tried to stay calm, but horrific worst case scenarios flashed through his mind. “Blue. If Opal. . .” His throat tightened. “If. . . I—”

“I know.” Her face hardened. “Me too.”

He nodded. Blue turned towards the elevator, headed down a floor to where the psychics were. Ronan slumped over in the chair at the briefing table. He was angry. He was angry and scared and furious and fuelled with so much energy he was exhausted as shit just holding it all in. He wanted to break something. To run out and find his daughter on his own. He wanted to watch the life fade from Kavinsky’s eyes himself. 

But there were protocols. Hoops to jump through. If he headed out, gun cocked at driving at the top speed, he would probably be diving head first into a fucking trap, get not only himself killed but Opal and Adam too. 

Adam. Somehow the biggest comfort he had. At least Opal wasn’t alone. It was fuck all that the two of them get taken, wrong place, wrong time, but Ronan couldn’t help but feel like Adam would protect. No, he knew he would. 

He knew that no matter what happened, Adam Parrish would try to protect his baby.

* * *

“A warehouse? How cliche.” Adam croaked. His head hurt. It really fucking hurt, but he could already feel small roots and vines reaching for him, some of the ones under his skin rushing to heal him, so if he still had that it couldn’t be that bad. 

“My dad’s going to kill you.” Opal said behind him. God, Opal. Opal was a blessing. A Godsend. Adam wasn’t religious, but Opal made him want to believe in a higher power. When he woke up in the car, she’d been there in the truck, clearly scared out of her mind but angry and strong. She’d explained about the man that used to come around. The man who stood in their driveway and screamed about long gone history at Ronan before Ronan installed the security. The man who’d show up at the grocery, at parks, called her “little girl”, “little precious”, who would bring her presents that made Ronan scream at him. The man that one day got arrested for a bank robbery. 

Joseph Kavnisky.

Adam knew him. One of four registered “dreamers”. Niall Lynch, Ronan Lynch, Jordan Hennessy, Joseph Kavinsky. He’d been arrested after a series of robberies and injured in the scuffle. Adam had operated on him. Patched together a head wound while he was unconscious, watched police take him away. 

“Shut the fuck up.” the man hissed. He was pacing back and forth, murmuring to himself and waving around a gun. He’d smoked the entire pack of cigarettes about an hour ago. “This was  _ our _ warehouse.  _ Our _ place. He’ll know to come here, to come back to me.”

Adam let out a loose breath and leaned backwards. His hands were chained to the floor, as were Opals, and they had their backs to a cold metal wall. “You have a lot of faith in that.”

Kavinsky grinned. “We’re soulmates. He’s just being stupid right now, does that sometimes, but he’s my bitch. Always was always will be. He can be so beautifully fuckin’ docile. Guess you would know that huh, doctor boy?” Adam clenched his fists. Unclenched them. Kavinsky kind of reminded him of his father. He hated him. He was scared of him. He hated that more.

“Not sure if docile and Ronan Lynch go together.” he gritted out. He really did not like having this conversation in front of Opal, but he needed to keep Kavinsky talking. To figure out a plan, something.

“Right, right, right, he’s all sober now. Makes him boring. ‘S not a problem for me though, I’ll slip a little something into his drink later, loosen him up.” he said this absentmindedly, like it was something he was used to doing. Adam wanted to be sick.

“It’s been fourteen years since you and Dad broke up, why don’t you just give up?” Opal snapped. 

Kavinsky blinked. “Because he loves me.” He sounded so  _ sure _ . “Ya know, after I had that old doctor of his killed I was so sure that my guy would get recruited into the team, but they couple little pansy Parrish over here and I got a bit insecure.” He pouted comically. “I mean, I know his type. There was no way he wasn’t going to go head over heels for you immediately like the little whore he is. But y’all held out this long and that’s when I  _ knew _ he was waiting for me to come back.”

Adam’s blood froze in his veins. 

Opal’s handcuffs clanged as she lurched forward. “Don’t talk like that.”

Kavinsky slammed his gun across her face, knocking her into Adam. “Be quiet. You’re not even his family, you’re just a pet.”

Adam bared his teeth. “I will kill you.”

“Mm, I’d love to see you try.” he sneered.

Opal groaned against his shoulder. Adam let the coolness of logic wash over him as he assessed her face. Redness, abrasion, light amounts of blood. It’d probably swell and bruise like a bitch, but nothing was broken and it didn’t look like it would scar. Once Dr. Parrish had finished his assessment, he let his blood boil.

They were close to the ocean. He could feel aquatic plants growing at an unnatural rate, pour up onto the pier and stretching towards the warehouse. He reached below the concrete beneath his feet and pulled ancient roots towards the surface. Weeds growing in the cracks between pavements thickened and heighted, flopping over the ceiling and denting it. Seaweed banged on the warehouse door. The concrete began to crack at the roots pushed through. The plants under Adam’s own skin burst forth, but he couldn't feel the pain. They shattered the metal on his wrists and he stood on shaking legs.

“What the fuck is going on?” Kavinsky screamed.

Adam lifted his chin and looked at him cooly. “You wanted to see me try.” He spread his arms and the walls were ripped to pieces. Branches and enlarged blades of grass rushed forth. Seaweed slithered along the ground. “Checkmate, Kavinsky.”  
Kavinsky opened his mouth to scream, yell, something, but a vine wrapped around his head. Adam was too high, too drunk on power to see him lift his gun and shoot.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I'm sorry (I'm not but the sentiment is there)  
> Sneak Peak: Ronan looked at the mangled body and let numbness fill his lungs.


	12. A Life Lost and a Life Loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Um. Enjoy? Lmk what you think? Follow me on tumblr @monstersanonymous and yell or ask questions?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: Opal is short for her age for no reason other than I said so. Adam has never really interacted with kids before Opal.

The second Calla said “warehouse” Ronan was on his feet and moving. She’d barely touched his hand before the word was out of her mouth. “Warehouse”. Ronan had bolted from the room without so much as an explanation. Not that he needed one, Gansey was sure to have him tailed by a backup crew. 

He doesn’t remember driving. He remembers red and green lights like distant lighthouses in his memory. He remembers cars honking and bowling past police roadblocks. And he remembers the plants. Everywhere, plants. Seaweed, draped over the port, reaching towards the warehouse like a dying man reaches for water. And the warehouse, the  _ warehouse. _ Branches and roots were wrapped around it, crushing it like a coke can in a child’s fist. The metal was wrapped and wrinkled amongst thick, mossy covered branches. It looked like spring on fucking crack. The ground was torn up like an earthquake had barrelled through. 

Ronan was screaming before he was even out of the car. “OPAL! ADAM!” He summoned a sword, feeling his head go light for a moment. “KAVINSKY! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!” he roared. The sword glowed with eerie power. He marched forward, not bothering to attempt to open the mess that was the door. Burning metal slides through metal as if it were wet paper. Ronan through his shoulder into the metal and stumbled as it gave.

A gunshot rang through his ears.

He watched roots drop a dangling Kavinsky from four feet in the air.

He was Adam, with plants bursting forth from his skin like some fucked up forest god, spin around, eyes vacant and unnatural.

He watched a little blond head fall to the ground. He watched blood spool from his daughter’s body, a gentle stream from a gentle source. 

He watched Adam, responsible, practical, calm and chaotic Adam catch his daughter as a dark rose bloomed in her T-shirt. 

Ronan’s throat seized around a scream.

Adam’s head snapped up and they locked eyes. “I didn’t— I didn’t see him—”

“Move.” he growled. He slid underneath her, cradling her body against his lap. “Opal. Opal, baby, can you hear me?”

“Ronan—”

He shook his head. “I need Dr. Parrish, right now. Fuck, Adam, I can’t—” 

Adam nodded. Now was not the time for apologies, for sentimentals. Adam tore at his shirt, wrapping the fabric around Opal’s stomach. “Opal. I need you to try to focus right now. I know it hurts, but we need you to focus. You don’t have to talk, but try to play I Spy, okay? Just find things to focus on for me, sweetheart.” Ronan let himself be minutely soothed by the cool professionalism in his voice. 

Opal made a concerning gurgling noise.

“Hey, hey, shhh. Dr. Parrish’s got you, baby. Don’t talk. Don’t talk. We got you.” Her head rolled limply. Her mouth gaped like a fish. Ronan felt heat behind his eyes. Little hands tangled themselves in his shirt. Distantly, Ronan realized he wasn't wearing his uniform, much less a mask. He didn’t care.

“Ronan.” He looked at Adam. “Ronan, we’re not going to be able to get to the hospital fast enough.”

“No.”

“Ronan—”  
“No! Shit, Parrish, you’re the best doctor out there, I can’t fucking lose her! Not again. Not again, I can’t.”

Adam took a deep breath. Let it out. Took another. Ronan watched him. “Give her to me.”

“What?”  
He shook his head and held his arms out. “We don’t have time for me to explain. I can save her, but you have to give her to me.”

“Adam.”

“Ronan, please.”

“Bring her back to me.”

Adam didn’t say anything. He just gathered Opal in his arms, holding her gently. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against Ronan’s. “If I’m not back within the hour, send Blue in after me.”

“The maggot?”

“I’ll need her. I’ll be in the woods”  
Ronan's head hurt. “Okay. Okay, just—”

“I know. I know.”

Adam stood and the plants in the room rose with him. Ronan stared as they wrapped around him and drew him steadily away, as gentle as a mother’s hug. 

By the time the rest of the team burst in, he was long gone and Ronan was still in shock. He was kneeling on bloody concrete surrounded by what looked like Mother Nature’s apocalypse. 

“Ronan.” Gansey said. “Ronan.” A thousand questions packed into a single name. Ronan didn’t know where to start. He had the same questions.

“Ronan!” Blue cried behind him. Her eyes went to the dark concrete first, but he shook his head. 

“Ronan.” Noah said softly, phasing through the wall. His eyes were on the forgotten body in front of them. 

Henry cleared his throat. “That wasn’t you, was it?”  
Ronan looked at the mangled body in front of him and let numbness fill his lungs. “Gansey. What was Adam’s ability again?”

Ronan watched it click behind brown eyes. “Wait,”

Blue gasped. “His father—” She clapped a hand over her mouth and looked ill. 

“Sargent.” he croaked. “How long have I been here?” 

“Hour? Hour and a half? Fuck, Lynch, I don’t know, you don’t have your trakers on.”

He stood on shaking legs and grappled at her uniform. “Adam, he’s in the woods with Opal, you have to, he asked me, after an hour, he needs you.” He wasn’t making sense. He felt like someone had stuffed his head with ants. “Fuck.” he said, as if it would help.

“Adam?” Gansey asked. He wasn’t asking Ronan.

“Dad!” A little bundle of blonde barrelled into his arms. Ronan looked down, eyes wide, at his daughter, trembling in his arms. HIs daughter, alive and whole. He pushed her back by her shoulders and scanned her. Her shirt was stained brown with blood and dirt, but there was none on her skin.

“Wh— how the fuck?”

“Adam!” Blue cried. “Shit, Adam!”

A thin, pale figure staggered in through one of the holes in the warehouse. Blue dashed over and did her best to prop him up. Flowers sprung up in his wake, and the leaves in the branches bursting through the walls seemed to lean towards him as if he had his own gravity. 

Ronan could relate. 

“Med wing.” he croaked, before falling limp in Blue’s arms. 

Adam woke to bright lights and a low hum. There was no momentary confusion, he knew exactly where he was and why. The bed of the Med-Scanner was soft. Adam didn't know why Ronan complained about being in it so often. Honestly, if he really didn't like being treated that much he shouldn’t get recklessly injured so often. 

He started to get out of the bed, swinging his legs over and wincing at sore muscles. He could feel the plants beneath his skin humm in acknowledgement. 

“Lay the fuck down, asshole.” A low voice murmured behind him.

“I don’t think you’re in any position of authority to tell me what to do.” Adam said dryly. 

Lynch cracked open an eye from his spot on the hard plastic chair. “Down, Parrish.”

Adam locked eyes with him. “Where’s Opal?”

“I’m not sure I want you to know.”  
And Adam got it, he really did. He stole his dying daughter away for an hour and then she came back miraculously healed, with no explanation. But also, “What, don’t trust me?”  
Lynch tilted his head back. “Wish I didn’t.”

And that really, really, shouldn't have made his heart skip a beat the way it did. “Not my problem.”

“Fucker.” He made a contemplative noise. “You’re ability. Dick said it was ‘beloved by plants’.”

“Supposed it is.” Adam eyed him warily. 

Lynch leaned forward and stared at him, like he could solve the mystery of Adam Parrish if he looked hard enough. “What the fuck are you?”

Adam tried not to get angry. He felt it bubble up like black tar at the top of his stomach. “Human. Maybe. I try not to think about it.”

“What happened?”

“My father was a bag of dicks who hated his son and owned a gun.” he said flatly. “They saved my life.”

“They?” Adam wiggled his fingers. “That’s creepy as fuck.”

He shrugged. “Were you able to get a reading from the scanner?”

“Cheng said that they’re everywhere. An entire biome living inside your body.”

That doesn’t surprise him. The plants have been with him for years. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were entire new species inside of him. “They heal me. Keep my body working. Protect me. That’s what I did for Opal. She doesn't have the connection or communication I do, but she has my voucher.”

“And when she doesn’t?”  
“That won’t happen.”

“Parrish.” he said slowly.

“ _ Ronan _ .” Adam said. “It won’t happen. They will love her.”  _ As I do. _ He didn’t say that. It felt rushed. He was still sorting out the attachment he had for Opal. 

Ronan sat back and crossed his arms. “So what, you give my kid whack as plant powers to? She gonna start snorting out pollen instead of snot now?”

Adam laughed. It felt weird to laugh, after everything they’d just been through. There was still a lot of talking that needed to be done, but for now, he was allowed to laugh. “No, no pollen. No difference. It’s still Opal. Honestly, the only thing that will change is that she’ll heal faster and probably won’t get sick much either.” 

“Well, thank the Lord for that.” Ronan said, without sounding thankful at all. 

Adam rolled his eyes. He realized that he’d been uncomfortably twisted in place in order to face Ronan, so he shifted so that he was seated upright on the bed and facing him completely. 

Ronan was reaching for him before he even had time to notice the movement. A calloused hand cradled his chin and pulled him forward a bit.

“Your eyes. . .they’re blue.”

Adam’s jaw slackened. “You can see them?”

“Yeah. I just thought the changed color with they light but they’re like super fucking blue.”

HIs throat felt dry. “The uh, the plants used to cover them up. I don’t look at them very often.”

“Can you feel them?” A thumb traced his cheekbone.

“Like wiggling around? No, but I can kind of sense them. They give off energy and I can tell they’re there from that.”

“Just the freeloaders?”

“The— what?”

“The freeloaders in your body.”

“I— no. All plants. The more I concentrate the further I can sense them and the better I can talk to them.”

“They talk?”  
“When they want to.”

Ronan was quiet. Adam supposed he’d answered enough questions to sedate him for now.

His hand was still on his face.

“Thank you.”

“For?”  
“Saving her.”

Adam’s throat felt dry. “I didn’t do it for you.”

Ronan kissed him.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Safe and sound <3 we'll hit some fluff and development before heading back to the hard stuff. We're about three quarters through of what I'd planned the plot to be, but I'm still unsure if I want to chop it off early and make a sequel of fluffy one shots or keep it all here. Lmk down below


	13. Quarantine and Boyfriends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Me? Uploading on time? Unheard of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: Gansey had the penthouse built with dual meeting and training areas and living areas so that Ronan could technically never leave if need be.

Ronan hovered. He was a hoverer. Not that you’d ever hear him say it aloud, but he was. He supposed it was a learned behavior, between his mother and Gansey, that he’d hover around his loved ones when they were hurt. He doesn’t pester like Gansey does or even comfort like his mother does, but he’s always just. . . there. Adam did not appreciate this behavior. There was a “I’m fine, Ronan” and “Leave me the fuck alone, Ronan” and occasionally “God _ dammit _ , Lynch”. Dually, Opal has never enjoyed her father’s hovering, typically echoing Adam’s sentiments. 

In the aftermath of the shitfest that was Kavinsky, Ronan and Opal were staying in the headquarter penthouse at Cabeswater. Ronan had called into the school and gotten Opal’s work for about two weeks so that she didn’t have to leave the building. Henry and Gansey spent the majority of their time scanning the Barns and beefing up the security. 

Adam was on lockdown. Coincidentally, he was on lockdown in the very same penthouse. There were medical scans, questions, and a lot of concerns about Opal’s wellbeing. From where Ronan stood, he enjoyed none of this. For the first two days he was like an anxious tiger in a zoo, pacing and grumbling and glaring. 

And then, it turned out that Dr. Adam Parrish, a frightening, beautiful, mystic creature, could not cook.

Ronan woke up from a nap, having not slept the previous night, to a ruckus in the kitchen.

“You burned the milk!”

“I— what? You can burn milk?’

“Yes! Very easily! Oh, Dad’s gonna  _ kill _ me if we ruin a pot.”

“Soak it in water.”

“No shit.”

“I’m pretty sure you aren’t allowed to say that.”

“Have you heard my father speak?”

“Fair point, I’ll let this one slide.”

Ronan emerged from his room as quietly as he could and lurked around the corner. Adam and Opal were standing over the sink, Opal on her tiptoes, scrubbing away at a pot with a layer of burnt black on the bottom, and Adam next to her, anxiously shifting from foot to foot.

“Mac and cheese shouldn’t be hard. It’s just science. Just follow the steps.” he grumbled.

“You can’t leave the milk on boiling!” Opal cried.

“It said let simmer!”

“On  _ medium _ heat. Medium! Not high, that’s how you burn things. We’re lucky there wasn’t any cheese in there, this pot would be a goner for sure.”

Adam nodded. “I’m grateful for your guidance.”

“You better be. Can you check the chicken?”

“Sure.” Ronan watched Adam walk over to the oven and open it. “Brown.”

“What kind of brown?”

“. . . brown?”

“Take it out and cut one open, if it’s pink inside put it back in.”

“It’s white.”

“Awesome.” Opal put down the pot she was scrubbing and took out a new one. “Let’s try the sauce again.”

“Two cups milk?”

“Here.”

“Two cups cheese?”

“Here.”

“. . . an unsaid amount of salt?”

“I got it.” Ronan said, stepping out of the shadows. “Kid always undersalts.”

“Hey!” Opal said, offended. To his credit, Adam did not jump when Ronan spoke up, merely tensed briefly before realizing who it was. Ronan picked up the salt shaker and gently nudged Adam out of the way. He stirred in the salt and motioned for the pasta to be thrown in.

“Can we trust you to cut up the chicken or should we have the thirteen year old do it?” he asked.

“I can use a knife.” Adam sniffed. 

“Mmhm. You want to help him, Opal?”

“Yeah!”

It was just a few more minutes before the sauce was evenly spread and the breaded chicken was tossed on top. They ate in the living room, old reruns of cartoons playing in the background. Ronan watched Adam and wondered how he hadn’t known. Even the potted plants in the room seemed to be angling towards him, leaves bending as if he was an opposite magnetic charge. As if he had gravity that they simply couldn’t resist. 

Ever since shitbag Kavinsky, Adam’s eyes had been blue.

Ronan found himself staring a lot. It wasn’t just his eyes. It was the way he held himself. Ronan hadn’t noticed Adam had been walking around dragging the fucking weight of the world behind him like an overpacked luggage until he let someone else hold it for a sec. His steps were lighter, smiles more genuine, the snark came easier. 

Adam wasn’t hiding anymore.

And Ronan was in love with it. 

Everyday, he woke up, remembered Dr. Adam Parrish, and thanked the Lord for the beauty that was his boyfriend.

* * *

Adam did not know if he and Ronan were dating. It was a very grey area. There was the kiss, three days ago, that’d yet to be talked about. There was the hand on his shoulder, which Ronan had managed to make feel less like a threat and more like a promise, that stayed as he ran through his secrets and lies to the rest of the team. 

They made an interesting pair; the man with a murdered father, beloved superhero in hiding and the man who murdered his father, powered and scared into secrecy. 

Adam was in the midst of watching Chainsaw eat her lunch when the chime of the elevator rang. He nearly fell off of the couch in his haste and yelled “I got it!” to the other temporary occupants of the penthouse.

He skidded to a clumsy stop as the doors drifted open, socks sliding against the slick floors. Blue stood, eyebrow raised, with a bottle of sparkling juice in hand.

“Well good day to you too, Adam.”

“Blue, thank fuck.” He dove forward and snatched the juice out of her hands. “C’mon.”

Blue laughed behind him as he dragged her to the kitchen for some cups. “I see you’ve made yourself at home.”

“Not sure what else I’m supposed to do, trapped here in this monstrosity of an apartment.” 

“It’s a  _ penthouse _ , Adam. He’s a trust fund baby turned superhero. Are you really surprised?”

Adam hummed from his place in the cup cabinet. “At least he gets a decent amount of his money from his job, If he just lived off of his daddy’s money I think I wouldn’t really be able to get along with him.”

Blue sipped at her cup. “I don’t think you mean that.”

“You don’t?” Adam asked.

“Not at all.”

“Really.”

“I think it would simply delay the inevitable event of you dicking him down.”

Adam choked, snorting sparkling juice up. “I’m  _ sorry _ ?”

Blue simply waved her now empty cup in front of him. “More please.”

Adam slowly poured her more. “You really shouldn’t say things like that. Ronan and I aren’t even dating.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sneak Peak: Adam had never been so frightened by his own uncertainty.


	14. Adam and Ronan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry it's been so long: I'm back in school with shit wifi and college scholarships apps are busting my ass so updating might be irregular but! I! WILL! FINISH! THIS! STORY!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: Adam originally didn't have any powers. Ronan was a Spider-man like hero who accidentally broke into Adam's apartment while he was bleeding out while Adam was in nursing school.

Ash. There was ash everywhere. God. Why was there so much ash? Ronan coughed. Mistake, he inhaled more ash. His leg hurt. He could feel ash dragging along his skin as the wind tossed it around, which meant his suit was torn open.

“Bee. Come in.” he croaked. Static met his ears. “Robobee. This is Greywaren. Come in.” More static. Ronan pushed himself upright and looked around. He was in an office, surrounded by papers and computers. Some were burning. Lights were hanging from the ceiling, broken and torn in half. A Ronan shaped hole had been punched through the wall opposite him.

“Note to self,” he groaned. “Thank Parrish for the healing serum update.” Had it not been installed into his suit two days ago, he might be dead, judging by the thickness of the wall. The serum wouldn’t cure or heal everything, but it would keep him alive. He dragged himself to a nearby window and looked out onto the city.

It was. . . it was shit. There were crashed cars, police evacuating civilians, superheros lying too still in the street. Some were still out there, still fighting. Ronan saw Blue’s cousin on the building next him, weaving illusions left and right. In the streets, people were staggering upright and inching slowly forward. Blue appeared from behind a car and tackled one of them. They collapsed to the ground. 

Ronan backed away from the window. He closed his eyes and pictured a forest. He imagined digging through the dirt and finding a grappling gun. When he opened his eyes, it was in his hand. Something ran down his lip from his nose. 

Swinging down, Ronan could survey the damage. It covered only a block of the city, but there was no sign of the main culprit. He walked down the street to when Blue was standing, huffing over her fallen foe.

“Battery.”

She looked at him. Eyes narrowed behind a black mask. “Greywaren.”

“How long was I out for?”

“Dunno. Few minutes? Coms are out, so I’m not sure.”

“Shit,” Ronan rubbed a hand over his head. “Robobee?”

She shook her head. “Entered the fray at some point. Cabeswater got hit.”

Well that explained the lack of contact. “Gansey?”

“Bunker.”

“Adam?”  
She was quiet.

“Battery. Where is Adam?” Ronan snapped. “What the fuck happened after I got hit?”

He had a mere moment where he could hear the gentle hiss of the wind before an enormous vine shot in front of his face. He jumped backward, back colliding with a car door. Concrete and metal creaked as a mass of vines and branches rolled through the street. And there he was. Adam, in a beautiful glory, hair messy, surrounded by the plants that loved him just as much as Ronan did. Plants wreaking havoc on the city.

He turned towards Blue and Ronan and Ronan felt like screaming. His eyes were dead, more so than he’d ever seen them. A giant black handprint was cradling one side of his jaw. Ronan watched, frozen, as Adam lifted an arm and pointed it towards him. Blue knocked him out of the way as roots rushed up from the ground, forming a pillar the size of a streetlight.

“Adam!” he screamed. “Adam!”

Blue shook him. “Stop that. He can’t hear you.”

Ronan raised his fist towards her but dropped it after a second. “Fucking mindcontrol.”

She nodded in agreement. “Fucking mindcontrol.”

“Okay,” He bounced on his toes, loosening up some muscles. “How do we take him out without fuckin. . . killing him.”

Blue grinned, merciless and cunning. “You ready for a boost, dream boy?”

“Hit me with it, Maggot.” Ronan hunched down slightly as Blue wrapped her hand around the back of his neck. Power rushed through him and the forest in his mind seemed to be everywhere and nowhere. He summoned, digging through the forest dirting until he could pull exactly what he needed. When he opened his eyes, two perfect copies of himself and Battery stood in front of him. Blue removed her hand and he felt the power leave him, his head spinning a little more than he would have preferred. 

“That never gets any less creepy.” Blue said, squinting at her clone. The clone squinted back.

Ronan unclutched his fist to reveal a white handkerchief. A bit more dramatic than the dish towel he was thinking of, but that was Blue’s influence.

“Listen up, fuckwads. This is our plan.”

Ronan watched Blue’s clone’s neck twist too far, head tugged by a vine of roses. Adam looked on with dead eyes. He tried not to think about Adam like this, horrific, violent. Cruel. He also found it extremely hot, which was a dilemma for another day. At the base of Adam’s mass of plants, Ronan’s clone began to climb. He barely had time to latch onto the man before Adam sent a spear of roots through his stomach. Ronan swallowed down bile. 

Adam was wrestling with the deadweight of the body when Blue leapt down off of a truck. She clung to him like a monkey, pressing her hands to the sides of his head. The plants fell to the ground, motionless, in an instant. Adam’s eyes rolled back and his knees buckled. Blue looked over to where Ronan crouched behind a turned over car.

“Now, shithead! Before he dies!”

Ronan was already racing over, handkerchief ready. He held Adam’s chin gently and scrubbed the black handprint away. “We’re good. Let him go.”

Blue removed her hands and the plants around them stirred. Ronan cradled him to his chest as greenery rose and grew around them. In a single minute, they were encased in a ball of plants, with only the top open for light. Adam groaned.

“Adam,” Ronan breathed. He sounded soft in a way that startled even himself.

“The fuck?” Which was an accurate sentiment.

Blue crawled over. “Hey, champ.”

Adam’s eyes opened and rolled towards her. “You are. . . Blue?”

She tugged off the mask that hid the top half of her face and her hair. “Hero name: Battery.”

“Oh.” He rubbed his head. “Ow.”

“What do you remember?” Ronan asked.

He shook his head. “Mind feels like shit. Gimme a sec.” A plant reached out, in a way that Ronan could only describe as timid, and gently wrapped around Adam’s wrist. He smiled down at it. “Hey. Did I worry you? I’m sorry.”

Ronan crossed his arms. “Damn, the plants get an apology before I do? That’s just cruel.”

Adam glared at him. “You made me kill your clone, you don’t get an apology.”

“You were awake for that?” Blue asked. 

He nodded. “A bit. Felt like watching a movie.” Long fingers brushed the petal’s gently. “I hurt people.”

“Not you.”

Adam glared at him. “ _ I _ hurt them.”

“Don’t fucking argue with me, it wasn’t you.”

“Fuck you.” Adam hissed. He grabbed the wrong of Ronan’s uniform. “You haven’t been. . . been  _ controlled  _ like that. I am a doctor. I took an oath to do no harm, to help and heal. I hurt people. Innocent people.”

Ronan held his wrist. “No. You didn’t.”

“I was there!”

“No!” he shouted. Adam flinched and Ronan did his best to suppress his guilt. “It was your body but it wasn’t you. You would never hurt anyone that didn’t have that shit coming for them.”

Adam’s eyes still burned with fury and fear. Ronan raised his hand, slowly, and held the back of his head. He leaned forward so that their foreheads were pressed together. The urge to punch him faded from Adam’s eyes. Ronan did his best to convey his sincerity. His wholehearted belief that Adam Parrish would never hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it.

Adam pushed away, far enough to breathe but not enough to leave his arms. Somehow, that warmed Ronan’s heart. He felt like the fucking Grinch. “I’m still mad at you.”

“Great, we can talk about Ronan being in the doghouse later, can we go back to the problem at hand?” Blue said from her spot on the floor.

Adam spun in his arms. “I’ll tell you everything I remember.”

Dr. Parrish was surprisingly not tired. He’d spent the day at work, sure, but there’d been a lapse. He was sure there was something he could have been working on, but everytime he asked Gansey, Gansey shook his head and glared at him. He supposed he was banned from doing extra work. 

They spent the day seeing what weird shit Ronan could pull out of his head with Blue’s help. This included a wind up duck that played autoshop jingles instead of quacking, a toaster that untoasted your toast, and an axe that somehow shattered into smaller axes when thrown against a wall. Ronan did his best to explain what it was like for him to create. For a solid minute he simply said, “I just ask.” which did jackshit for explaining but eventually Adam wrestled an image out of him.

He described a lush green forest with a bed of autumn leaves. Dirt that built everything Ronan dreamed, trees that showed memories, or lead to different parts of the forest. Rivers that tasted like whatever you were thinking about and ran with color changing fish. A forest that birthed nightmares with a single thought. Wind that could kill you, if you dared to imagine it. It sounded magical, wondrous. It sounded terrifying. Adam could barely comprehend how Ronan managed to keep it all in his head.

Noah dug a darts board out of a supply closet and they tapped it to the wall with duct tape. Most of them were decent at darts, save Henry and Gansey. Henry was terrifyingly good at darts. He not only hit the bulls eye a number of times, but if you gave him any number he’d hit that to. Gansey, somehow landed in the exact same spot every time no matter how he threw.

Adam’s stomach hurt from laughing. Ronan was trying to do trick shots from under Noah’s arm and failing horribly. After a dart got stuck in the wall, they were confiscated and put in a drawer somewhere. They did not take the board down, they were pretty sure the paint would peel off if they did. Blue dragged Gansey home, something about quality time and not being married to both work and her. Henry slunk away to his lab, either watching TV or tinkering. 

Noah patted Adam on the shoulder before leaving. “I’m glad you’re happy here.” 

Adam startled. He supposed he was happy here. He was here, he was happy. It was daunting, that a small group like this had the power to change his life so much in mere months. Though these weren’t exactly normal people.

Ronan shrugged his jacket on. “You coming, Parrish? Or are you going to spend another night here.”

Adam glared at him and grabbed his jacket as well. They hovered outside in front of Adam’s sad car, not saying goodbye yet. 

“So, I’ll, uh, see you Monday?” Ronan said.

Adam shrugged. “Unless a villain decides to work on a weekend, yeah.”

“Cool.”

“Mmhm.”

“Come over for dinner.”

Adam looked up from where his hand was on the handle to his car. “What?”

“Dinner. Come.”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time. Why?”

Ronan kicked the ground. “You got better things to do?”

“Sleep.”

“Asshole.”

“Yuh uh. Bye, Lynch.”

“Adam.” Ronan put his hand on the car door. “Dinner.”

Adam sighed. “What are you making?”

Ronan grinned. “You’re gonna fuckin’ love it, trust me.”

It turns out dinner was pasta with breaded chicken so tender it melted like butter in Adam’s mouth. Opal was there, snarky and sweet as always. Apparently, she’d joined the school’s volleyball team. 

“So in biology, we’re growing flowers, and I swear I should sabotage mine. They’re growing too well! I mean they’re like, super duper pretty, but no one else’s has bloomed yet.” she complained. 

Adam shrugged. “They like you. It’s something to get used to.”

She stabbed a piece of chicken. “I guess it’s a cool trick.”

He smiled and ruffled her hair. The table shook slightly as Ronan set his cup down a tad too heavily. Adam looked over to him, eyebrow raised. Ronan looked away, ears redder than they were a second ago. Something like triumph filled Adam’s chest. After dinner, Ronan bullied Opal into doing the dishes while Adam wiped down the table. Ronan dug small cartons of ice cream out of the freezer and they watched whatever movie was playing on the channel on the TV.

Opal left right after, rattling on about friends and social media and going to school early tomorrow. Ronan just flapped a hand at her, seemingly not caring about why she was going to bed. 

He pushed himself up off the couch with a groan. “Oh, my muscles, shit.”

“You’re getting old, Dad.”

“I’m in my prime.”

“You’re prime is old.”

“Get your ass in bed, streetrat.” He smashed his face into her hair for a light kiss. Opal squirmed away and immediately wrapped her skinny arms around Adam.

“Night, Adam.”

“Uh, night.” He stroked her hair. “Sleep well.”

As they watched her disappear upstairs, Adam stifled a yawn. Ronan stood and brushed off his pants. “C’mon, Parrish. I’ll get you home.”

They piled into Ronan’s car and Adam watched the dark trees fly by. He turned back to Ronan, who looked impossibly young and old in the moonlight. “Hey. I had fun today.”

He cut a glance at Adam. “Yeah? We’re pretty fuckin’ cool, huh?”

“Yeah.” he said. “Not bad for a first date.” The car swerved slightly before settling back. “Ronan?”

“Yeah.”

“This was a first date. . . right?" 

A moment of silence. “I thought it was our third date.”

Adam turned to face him fully. “Third?”  
“Yeah.”

“Third?!”

“Shit, Parrish, no need to yell.”

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose. “What were the other two?”

“Movie night when you were staying with us at Cabes.”

“And?”

“Last Tuesday.”

“Last Tuesday. . . when you broke your  _ ribs _ ?!”

“We were in the med-wing together!”

“I am your doctor!” And to think, that Adam had never been so frightened by his own uncertainty.

“You were flirting!”

Adam threw his hands in the air. “I’m also attracted to you! I do that!” He ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck, Ronan. Pull over.”

“What? Fuck no.”

“Ronan. Pull. Over.”

“No. Fuck you.”

“Ronan Lynch, pull over or I will pull us over in your shiny rich boy ass car.”

Ronan pulled up next to the sideline of trees. “If you get murdered while your dumbass is walking home, I’m not going to save you.”

“If I get murdered, I won’t need saving.” Adam said. “Ronan.”

Ronan rubbed a hand over the top of his head and peaked at him. “What?”

“C’mere.” Ronan looked like he was slightly afraid to ‘c’mere’ but he uncrossed his arms and leaned slightly towards Adam.

Adam caught his jaw and pulled him in for a kiss. Not like the one in the rose garden, not like the one while Adam was in the med-bay. This was just Adam and Ronan. 

When they pulled away, Ronan’s eyes were wide and soft. “Adam.” he said. And that, that was just a little too much for Adam. He dropped his forehead onto Ronan’s shoulder.

“How long?”

“Huh?”

“How long have we been dating?”

Ronan lifted a hand and gently rubbed Adam’s upper back. “Kavinsky?”

“Holy shit.” he laughed.

“What?”

“This whole time I’ve been freaking out about whether or not we should be in a relationship, and we already were.”

“Responsible Dr. Parrish, always think through everything.” Ronan said sarcastically.

Adam poked him in the chest. “Hey, you have a  _ daughter _ . And you’re a superhero. That’s a lot to handle.”

Ronan rubbed more circles into his back. “I know.” he said softly. “I know.”

Adam entered his apartment on a high. He was still floating from bruising kisses over the console of a car when he set his stuff down.

“Dr. Adam Parrish.” 

Adam jumped and immediately flung a hand towards the voice, calling his houseplants. Nothing happened. The lights flicked on.

“Who are you?” The women sitting in his living room looked up. Her eyes were heavy with mascara and her lips looked like someone had melting bubblegum onto them. Adam looked around. His apartment was filled with ashes. Every pot, every crack in the ground was filled with ash. The woman flicked a lighter between her fingers. “What did you do?”

“I learned about you, Adam. Can I call you Adam? Dr. Parrish sounds like, super boorish.” Adam didn’t respond. “Cool. Anyway, my husband picked you up on the camera’s or whatever after we sent that junkie to go nap the Greywaren’s daughter.”

Adam’s bones felt cold. “You sent Kavinsky?”

“Well, I mean not me. Like, yes me, but I told Colin to do it.” 

“Who are you and what do you want?” he ground out.

The women stood. Adam tensed as she walked slowly towards him, rubbing her hands together as if for warmth. She reached towards him and Adam had nowhere to run as she rested her hand on his jaw. “My name’s Piper. Piper Greenmantle. And I’m out for blood.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sneak Peak: He had so little forgiveness left inside of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Short chapter but they get longer I promise.
> 
> Sneak Peak:
> 
> "You want to put shrooms in my superhero suit?"  
> "Sure."  
> He kind of liked this guy.


End file.
